For the past 5 months, I’ve been staying on the ranch needing little more than to watch over mom. Last week, my brother hauled me back out to the Denver area for a week, giving me time with my daughter and doctors’ appointments. During the few days before leaving mom was living out a few conflicts over this temporary morphing of life.
Over the few days before Brad and I took off, mom had shown more than her common level of frustration, right on over into just being pissed about things. Her irritation had more to do with an 81 year old body not cooperating than my not being there. Disappointment in herself goes hand in hand with her husband’s suffering a long drawn out demise from a seriously damaged heart and three strokes. I’m willing to put money down on any of us being much the same if we tried shouldering all of her load.
At the same time, I was stumbling about in my own thoughts, knowing I needed to stay back here with her, while, desiring to move back to where I had been living for 30 some years. Across, all of these past 5 months I have been kept company by those thoughts and feelings. For the most part, that struggle hadn’t been persistent but it had, occasionally, taken a nip out of the seat of my pants.
Mom was, and I think, is still in a different world. She’s not willing to let go of things as most every parent knows. As I’ve learned with my daughter, she is having a terrible time setting aside those 50 plus years of parenting me. It doesn’t matter whether I’m 58 or not, her incessant drive to be mom, commenced more than 5 decade ago and isn’t about to cease. Early on, of course, this wasn’t a problem, now, however, it has become an incessant noise.