"Millie-wisdom" Lessons in Living

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Her last stroke did her in. No, she didn't die. Hardly! Her mind is totally functional, her irreverent humor and memories in place, and her unsolicited advice spews from every pore. After months in physical therapy she is relegated to a wheelchair and the use of only one arm. As much as she hates to leave her home, she needs constant assistance to get thru the day. She's tried private nurses. "Too expensive!" she declares. But she really could afford them. She just didn't LIKE them!

"What a twit this last one was! She wouldn't make me coffee unless it was decaf. Decaf! Was she afraid the caffeine would ramp me up too much? Or I'd be doing wheelies in this frikin' chair? Decaf! Gag me! Give me the real stuff! I need the buzz! And the TV shows she made me watch! Addicted to news and talk shows she was - as if her being "informed" as she put it would make any damn difference in the world! Really! You know what it REALLY was??? I could beat her at Jeopardy! Yep, she wasn't too informed from school! What are they teaching anymore? She didn't know Minneapolis has a twin city!" and so it would go.

I love Millie dearly. At 87 she has more life in her than most of the people I know. She is a delight to be around and I felt badly none of her four kids could be here to pack her up and move her. Millie and I had spent the better part of a week together - her job was to point with her good hand and be the decision maker - going through all the rooms in the house tagging furniture for donation or estate sale and sifting through a lifetime of "stuff".

"What if we pack this Venetian crystal up for your daughter Carolyn? I bet she would love it" I asked.

"Damn! I wish I could fart!" she replied.

"WHAT?"

"I wish I could make a loud one RIGHT NOW! John and I always did that, did ya know? When one of us asked the other one what we thought of something, if we didn't like it, we'd fart. Then we knew. So I wish I could fart this instant!"

"I thought you did awhile ago," I teased. "That's why I went out to the garage for more boxes!"

"Nope - not a good idea. Pretend I farted. Carolyn doesn't like green crystal, Annie has no use for it out in that tree house or whatever that place is she lives in, and the boys? Forget it. Bernard's wife is all country into white milk glass and David's wife would sell it all on Ebay, the bitch. I think I just pooped in my pants." she said matter-of-factly.

"Really? I wish you didn't try so hard to fart!" I said as I wheeled her into the bathroom.

This little incident evoked Millie's thoughts on control. "Oh I had nothing with do it! I'm going out the same way I came in, poopin' in my pants, no control over it, it just happens. I'm sure that saying "Shit Happens" was created by a senior citizen who really KNOWS! There is an awful lot of life truth to this, honey. We have less control over things than we think we have. So much of it is illusion, you know. We only think we are in control of things - and that thought lulls us into complacency until something unexpected comes along - then BAM - you realize you aren't really controlling anything at all! Yep, its the equivalent of poopin' in your pants."

Knowing someone like Millie confirms my belief that we are all teachers - and students - simultaneously and everyone we meet is in our life to teach us something.

"You should be a writer, Millie. Put all this Millie-wisdom in a book - maybe clean it up a bit.."

"Oh life isn't always butterflies and flowers!" she interrupted. There is a lot of poop in it. But hey, that's why God invented toilet paper! Wipe it up, pull up your pants and get on with life!"

I wasn't sure what religious dogma Millie subscribed to, if any, but God inventing toilet paper? He was probably as directly responsible for that as He is the duct tape I'm so fond of!

"It's time for cocktails!" she happily declared after the situation had been remedied in the bathroom. "Get out the crystal, pour that vile skim milk in it - squirt in a little Bosco and a wee splash of brandy."

I prepared her drink in a lovely light green crystal goblet and we settled in the living room near the fireplace.

"Do you know this is the first time I've used this crystal?"

"Are you serious? You have an entire cabinet of this crystal."

"I know. Dumb, huh? You know what is REALLY dumb? I bought these for "special" and I lived all these years waiting for that special time not realizing every day was special! Don't miss this fact, honey. Every day is special!" and with that declaration she pitched the now-empty goblet with her one good arm into the fireplace, shattering it to bits.

"Damn that felt good!" she hollered with a mischievous look in her twinkling eyes. "Bring me another one!"

"Do you want a cocktail in it?" I inquired.

"No, just the glass. I should have done this years ago!"

I didn't know at that moment how to call this. Was it a destructive waste of priceless heirlooms or a celebration? She whooped it up til one shelf in the cabinet was empty.

"Honey, I want you to listen to me." she said. "I'm not nuts. I know what that stuff was supposedly worth. It was cheap when I bought it in Italy in 1930 and that is all I can relate to it. Remember the rocking chair that sold at auction for $200,000 or more just because John F. Kennedy sat in it? Go in my den. See the rocker? Same exact chair and I'm not kidding! My butt sat in it. It ain't worth thousands cuz of that! It is worth $188 which is what I paid for it. Period!

"What is with people assigning "value" on stuff, saying it is priceless and spending so much money just to have somebody eles's old stuff? Ain't none of it worth it. What is priceless? A day on this earth, that's what. People got it all wrong - I mean all wrong. Life is priceless! And you don't need stuff to make it any better - no big cabinets of "stuff". It's like only wearing your Sunday best clothes only on Sunday. I remember thinkin' 80 years ago that just isn't right. If wearing my Sunday best dress made me feel special, then I need to wear it often to keep that special feeling going!"

"My point is, honey, don't save stuff. You're just a slave to its maintenance. I dusted that cabinet for decades. What if I never had it? Would my life have been any different? No way. Except I'd have had a few more hours to enjoy it rather than cleaning the crap that was in it!"

I smiled and went into the kitchen for the broom and dust pan. Millie-wisdom. As I started sweeping up the remnants of her "stuff" she turned on the TV and started yelling answers at it. Jeopardy was on...........and Millie was always right.