Ageing people ramble on the same old souvenirs, just too much.
You grow weary of those yarns well known: old wins, defeats of the yesterday, things they liked so much or those they said “no!” to. Old mistakes they keep explaining away. This is silly! Why on earth do they tire us? We have things to do, we live today.
You are certain to kill your old parents by not allowing them to speak: by telling them that you did hear this already, you know, yes, you know, this is boring; by making them feel cold or how ridiculous they are, or simply cutting in, not listening, so that at last they become silent. They do, and soon enough they forget, then forget even what they forgot and forget themselves, wither and die out...
As it happens, marriage dies in the same way.
A drop of patience, of mercy, forgiving our parents their weaknesses, as we will need our children to forgive ours. Hodie mihi cras tibi.*
*Today me, tomorrow it is your turn.