Now for the real reason for this lack of writing – I just wasn’t putting myself into it. I was playing it safe by just documenting observations and lightly touching on what is going on behind the scenes – i.e. my heart ramblings. I have been told that my writing is compelling. Well this has certainly not hit that mark, up to now.
My defense wall has been up and it is fairly thick. Trying to look at myself more truthfully is tough. Exposing myself to the nether world of internet blogging scares the shit out of me.
Oh yea, I have a tendency to let curse words fly out of my mouth, brain, fingers, etc…. so beware. I don’t do it for shock value or to offend anyone. I just express myself in colorful ways, at times. I will try to hold back on the f-bomb, as I know that really is offensive for some folks. Personally, I find that word covers so many grammatical functions, that I have a hard time not letting loose with it whenever it pops into my head. Luckily for me, I have a strong f-bomb filter in place, so you will be spared – I hope.
Back to the defenses…
My silence has allowed me to distance myself from this blog. I look at this blog as a testimonial to Mom and life with her. I need to amend this to: testimonial of Mom and Dad. After 50+ years of marriage, it is difficult to separate one from the other. While they are not co-dependant, they certainly are intertwined with each other.
As for me…there are times when I just want to scream at them. Why can’t they figure stuff out for themselves?!?!? They use to do this. Now they just go along without really thinking through anything.
For instance, a week or so ago, I went into the backroom and couldn’t believe how cold it was. I commented and Dad said he noticed it was cold, but then again it was cold outside. This is illogical, since there is a wall unit heater that heats the room regardless of the exterior temperature. I look at the thermostat and it reads 65 degrees. What!!! I walk over to the heater and cold air is blowing out of it. Dad sits right next to it. Couldn’t he feel the cold air blowing on him???? I comment that the heater must be broken and we need to call the repairman. Mom volunteers to do this. I know, she usually gets mixed up, but it is the middle of the day and I need to get back to work. She calls and leaves a message. I know this only because I found a note that she wrote stating that she left a voicemail at 3:25pm. According to Dad, he thinks the repairman is coming at 2:30, but not sure what day. Crap! Of course I found the note at 10pm that evening – and found it accidently, too. I call the service the next morning, which is a Saturday to discover that they are only open Mon-Fri. I spend the next half hour tracking down someone who will come out first thing Mon morning. Here’s the thing: I am leaving that day to head down to Lynn’s for the Inauguration. Em and I won’t be back till Tues evening. I am trying to get the heater fixed before I come back.
And just for grins and giggles, the main TV is in the backroom, which is now functioning as a walk-in freezer. This means that Mom and Dad will watch TV in the basement or in their bedroom. Simple – right? Not quite. Due to the cable box configuration, they forget how to turn the TV on. They either turn off the cable box or the TV or switch the TV channel to one that doesn’t receive the cable signal. All of which means they get frustrated and can’t watch TV. Mike programmed the cable remote in the back room to make it easier for them, but they still get confused. The other TVs have not been programmed. It is a recipe for disaster, resulting in Dad claiming he is going to throw the remote through the TV and Mom stating that they need a new TV ‘cause the current one is always broken.
Are you following any of this? It is like a maze without a prize at the end. In fact, there is no end! It just keeps going. I guess a better metaphor is that life with them is like a pulling a loose thread on a sweater, only to realize that thread is connected to the entire sweater, which is now unraveling inch by inch. Holy Shit!
So my defenses are in place –or so I tell myself. But the truth is that this shit gets to me. I vacillate between wanting to yell at them, to trying to be patient and praying all the time. And then I feel guilty for not understanding that they are who they are – no more, no less. Well that just stinks! Getting old stinks. For those on the 95-year plan, you can have it. I have seen old age up close and personal and it sucks. You can’t remember anything. The pleasures you use to have are beyond your comprehension. In fact, everything is mostly beyond comprehension. You repeat actions/words/thoughts over and over till you can’t find your way out of your own thought process.
I do try to look at this from a different perspective. One where expectations are lowered. A world where simple pleasures give joy. A life where discussing the issues of the day don’t go much beyond the surface level. There are days when I can get into this slowed-down groove and share their space with them. Ok, let’s make that moments. For if I spent a day functioning at their level, I would never get anything done. I need to learn to leave my level behind and walk with them at their pace. This is not easy for me. I have a million things going on at once and usually can juggle everything. When I have to lay all that aside to sit with them, it is difficult for me.
There are times when this happens and I enjoy their company. I am thankful for the chance to spend time with them. I am their daughter, for that space of time. I am not their caregiver, shopper, chauffer, cook, organizer, medical consultant, advisor, etc… I relish the times when I drop all those roles off at the door and simply exist with them. It doesn’t’ happen often enough.
I have lost that part of me that could slip into daughter mode like slipping into a cool lake on a hot summer day, allowing the waters to flow over my weary body. I don’t get to do that anymore. It saddens me that I am too busy taking care of everything/everyone else that I have lost the role of the daughter. I have to fight the tears back, even as I write this. Shit! See what I mean about letting defenses down???? Once there is a crack in the wall, the floodwaters of emotions can’t be held back. Well that stinks.
I have rambled enough for now. I will try to be more open with what is really going on and not just the factual façade of observations and dry commentary of the past blogs.
JaneEllen
Posts
