I don't like being a sandwich

They call this time period when your kids still need you and your aging parents do too, the sandwich generation. I don't like being a sandwich. I don't even know what kind of sandwich I am or suppose to be. Justin had the flu all week end, my Uncle Jim died Sunday morning, and my parents are starting to remind me of me and David.  Rob informed me that we are in a high wind, flooding, and tornado warning until 1 PM, as soon as I got out of bed.  I remember before I was a sandwich, Rob and I discussed things besides the weather and blood pressure medication. So off I head to school with this information, to do lesson plans and check in at school. Lessons plans sketched out, phone numbers exchanged with the sub, now for something to eat for breakfast. Before I was a sandwich, I didn't worry about eating breakfast but now I have to eat before I take my medications or I have a tendency to want to throw up. I remember thinking, at one time, that eating breakfast and taking medication was pretty lame. When I was a kid, the mothers in the neighborhood took "nerve medicine". I thought that was pretty lame too, but that too, was before I was a sandwich. I stop at McDonald's and get a diet Pepsi and a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. I know I should have gotten oatmeal but I can't eat oatmeal and drive and I need to head to Grafton to start my day. Driving through the downpours, thunder and lightening remind me of last Monday at Derek's funeral.  I start thinking about how I got from being a kid to being a sandwich driving through a storm to plan a funeral. I need to get my Mom some clothes for the viewing and funeral so I stop at Bealls in Grafton but they aren't open yet so to make the best use of my time I decide to start shopping for Justin's and Cassie's Easter baskets. These are the kind of things that sandwiches do, one minute you are shopping for your elderly parents and the next minute you are planning Easter baskets for the adult kids that still want Easter baskets. They are no fools. They see what life as a sandwich is like and they want no part of it. I don't blame them. I do some Easter basket shopping at the Dollar Store and wait for Bealls to open. I walk inside and the lady ask me if she can help me. I usually say no, but yes I want help today. "I need to pick out some dressy pant suits for my mother who is 82" I said. My Mom use to bring me to Grafton on the train to buy me dresses when I was little. That seemed like fun.  This doesn't. We walk to the back of the store and I pick out three pant suits and a pair of shoes. I call Mom to make sure my purchases are OK, because sandwiches still have to answer to their parents. On to the funeral home to meet my brother Rick and cousin Pam. They are both retired, which makes me a fresher sandwich than them. When you are a sandwich you start learning many things about funeral homes and planning funerals. I'm glad my uncle already had a few things picked out, like his casket. How do you pick out a casket for someone? When I pondered on that for a moment and thought of Justin picking out my casket, I decided that some decisions are probably better made when you are still alive. There are still a million things to choose and decide. We all thought the funeral home already had his suit. They didn't. We had to decide on a suit and tie. My cousin Pam thinks like me. One, it is all just going in the ground anyway and two if someone doesn't like the tie, we will just say that Uncle Jim picked it out before he died. So on to other decisions, the memorial book, the remembrance card cover, the remembrance poem, the obituary, the times for viewings and funeral. Somewhere in the middle of all of this Pam informs us that she has no place at her house for anymore flowers. We order flowers. When all the arrangements are made we decide to go eat lunch.  Before I was a sandwich, lunch could have been fries and a dessert. I order grilled chicken and the even older sandwiches order salads. I guess I should be happy that it isn't Ensure, which Rick gives me a case of to bring home to Mom. Lunch over, I head home. My cell phone rings. It is Justin. I can hear him but he can't hear me. That conversation reminded me alot of his entire freshman year at college. So home to Rowlesburg I go. I stop at Mom and Dad's house to drop off Mom's clothes, shoes, and Ensure. I haven't even made it in the door when Dad informs me that he needs clothes, too. I'm thinking why didn't you tell me when Mom told me and I could have shopped for you at the same time. Parents pay their kids back when they realize their kids are now sandwiches. My Dad tells me not to make a special trip, which means, you must love your mother more than me. At this point, I call Rob. I give him Dad's sizes and shopping list and tell him to stop in Morgantown before he comes home. I really don't want to drive back to Grafton or Morgantown. I don't remember asking to be a sandwich. It just happened, like everything else in life. You are just hanging around with your friends and the next thing you know you are a sandwich.