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Snow on Daffodils
Saturday, April 6th, 2024 04:57 pmSmall buds of sunshine
Strong shoots poke through whitened ground
Mother finally rests
- - - - - - - - - -
The world changed for me back in November, when I realized I was going to have to start taking care of my mom. Not full-time; at that point we still thought she was going to get better (as, in fact, she did, for a while). But after that first fall, I could see a long road ahead of helping with PT, making sure to check in more often, trying to get Mom -- never a joiner -- more involved with social activities that would keep her active, even making sure she was eating and not deciding that dinner was just too much effort. It meant a lot of time and energy redirected from a life that already needed more time and energy than it had, but I found ways to see it as something I could manage, even enjoy. I had plans.
Now the world has changed for me again, and I'm still figuring out how to stand in this new place. I have stopped being my mother's daughter, and started being her executor. (Obviously I'll always be her daughter, but it's not the active role it was, and was gearing up to be more so.) There's no shortage of things to do, but there's a lack of urgency to most of them that's a disorienting change from "She needs pain medication NOW." But they're not completely without timeline, either; the cable should be turned off, the condo prepped for sale. I've learned the very hard way not to let things sit, since a five-minute delay on my part routinely turned into three days' delay for Mom; the estate should be somewhat more accommodating, but I still suspect that the thing I blow off will be the thing that comes back to bite me.
I am coping, because one does. But I am stealing bits and pieces of time for my own things, and looking forward to when that can be a majority pursuit, not a sideline.
Strong shoots poke through whitened ground
Mother finally rests
- - - - - - - - - -
The world changed for me back in November, when I realized I was going to have to start taking care of my mom. Not full-time; at that point we still thought she was going to get better (as, in fact, she did, for a while). But after that first fall, I could see a long road ahead of helping with PT, making sure to check in more often, trying to get Mom -- never a joiner -- more involved with social activities that would keep her active, even making sure she was eating and not deciding that dinner was just too much effort. It meant a lot of time and energy redirected from a life that already needed more time and energy than it had, but I found ways to see it as something I could manage, even enjoy. I had plans.
Now the world has changed for me again, and I'm still figuring out how to stand in this new place. I have stopped being my mother's daughter, and started being her executor. (Obviously I'll always be her daughter, but it's not the active role it was, and was gearing up to be more so.) There's no shortage of things to do, but there's a lack of urgency to most of them that's a disorienting change from "She needs pain medication NOW." But they're not completely without timeline, either; the cable should be turned off, the condo prepped for sale. I've learned the very hard way not to let things sit, since a five-minute delay on my part routinely turned into three days' delay for Mom; the estate should be somewhat more accommodating, but I still suspect that the thing I blow off will be the thing that comes back to bite me.
I am coping, because one does. But I am stealing bits and pieces of time for my own things, and looking forward to when that can be a majority pursuit, not a sideline.
