LouLife [1]

Illustration by Michael Dwayne

When Grandmother canceled her annual Mother’s Day trip to Georgia, the family raised a collective eyebrow. Never before had our beloved matriarch declined an invitation involving Mother’s hospitality and Daddy’s cosmopolitans. The behavior was unprecedented. Could it be that after 86 years of unabashed hoopla she was actually slowing down?

She didn’t explain herself and we didn’t press her. Like any loving family we left her alone and then picked her to pieces behind her back like a pack of hungry crabs on a washed-up fish.

It wasn’t hard to imagine what might be prompting her decision. Grandmother lives in New York. Traveling to my parents’ house near the Alabamastate line involves the bustle and woe of both LaGuardia and Hartsfield international airports. She’d have to make the commute twice in four days because, despite the heroic efforts of the Hallmark Company, Mother’s Day festivities rarely push beyond the boundaries of a long weekend.

So she canceled her trip. Mother holds out hope she’ll return next May but the writing is on the wall. Grandmother has shifted out of the “flitting off for a weekend” stage of life. It’s perfectly natural, although, depending on your perspective, some might find it depressing. It all depends on what the next stage is. Grandmother wasn’t talking.

Limelight-hogging developmental phases like teething and puberty make it easy to forget that people continue to move through different stages until the final curtain.

Maybe if there were an informative book explaining life phases after the age of 50 we’d all be more comfortable. They could call it What to Expect When You’re Expiring, and it could focus on personal preoccupations and physical manifestations during life’s downward cycle.

My father-in-law, for instance, is in a “climate curious” stage. Intensified by a latent golf obsession, it makes him the go-to guy for driving conditions in every major city in the USA. It would be cute if he didn’t take it so seriously. Last year he tried to buy a Doppler radar system on eBay only to be outbid in the last frenzied seconds by the Republicof Chad.

It was a shame, really, because my mother-in-law is in a weather-related stage herself and would have benefited from the technology. “Wicked Witch Syndrome” makes it impossible for her to leave the house if there is the slightest chance of precipitation. It can be trying but, like the night terrors of a four-year-old, must be respected or she calls in the flying monkeys.

The important thing to remember: It’s just a stage.

My own parents are in a phase where they’re rarely in the house. Wanderlust has them scampering around the globe like contestants on The Amazing Race, except they don’t seem to be trying to win money, but rather to sp/files/storyimages/as much as possible. It’s curious but not without its perks. Last year Sky Magazine named them Duke and Duchess of the Delta Crown Room and gave them each a lifetime supply of cocktail nuts. It was a proud moment for everyone.

But not all stages are to be celebrated. My sister, for example, has prematurely entered an “I won’t shop downtown because it’s too much of a hassle to park” stage. I find this alarming because it’s usually followed by the more annoying “I won’t come unless you pick me up” phase. This behavior is not to be encouraged but, like adolescent eye-rolling, must be endured until it runs its course.

The good news is: It will. Even if you’re going downhill you’re still moving.

Personally, I’m looking forward to the life stage where food is the primary focus of the day — the importance of what you’re having for dinner outweighed only by your plans for breakfast and lunch. In preparation I’ve been boning up on obscure culinary terms like brandade or woodear so as not to embarrass myself in front of uppity wait-staffs. It’s thrilling in a way. Each new stage will bring knowledge and fresh opportunities to acquire gear.

Grandmother finally confessed her reasons for canceling the Georgia trip. Turns out she was bored by the tradition and wanted to mix it up a bit. A fri/files/storyimages/down the street was starting a Bunko group and she planned to join. Drinking and dice — sounds like a new stage is set.