from the book of writing hard and clear what hurts. I’ve had an overly close relationship with my mother since childhood. Due to various circumstances, it feels I’ve been “taking care” of my mother since I was ten years old. At the very least, I was a protector. Initially from my father and brother, who could be physically and verbally abusive, to all other perceived manner of threats. But it has certainly provided its own set of issues as I continue to “take care” of my mother.
The other day my mom moved to a memory care facility. The administrators at the assisted living facility, where she lived for almost three years, told me in December to look for a memory care facility. I’d seen the cognitive decline, but it was swift. For now my mom is at the “top” of the class for cognition at her new home. At her age of 96, I know it will not last long.
My mom has understood me throughout my life. She knew, and accepted, my faults, health challenges (physical and mental), and supported many of my dreams. I’m glad she was able to see my first published book.
It remains that I’ve lost two valuable anchors in my life in the past two years. This is challenging for me, very challenging. Many times I feel adrift, many times I feel panicked, many times I isolate myself. An overwhelming amount of the time, I do what I’ve always done best…force myself to my feet and put one foot in front of the other. It’s a much slower progression these days. My physical health is the worst ever, an arthritic knee cries for help, one eye is a little worse for wear, and the perpetual is the compulsion to overeat to calm myself. My domicile shows the state of my mind…cluttered.
My anchors are gone. No one understood me the way they did. No one accepted me the way they did. No one supported me the way they did. It will take time to find new anchors, to ask for assistance, to trust. It will happen. For now, it’s one foot in front of the other until I’m too exhausted. Then it’s rest and repeat. I’m so tired.
“So angels say – on yesterday – /Just as the dawn was red/One little boat – o’erspent with gales – /Retrimmed its masts – redecked its sails – /And shot – exultant on!” Emily Dickinson “Adrift! A little boat adrift.”
“I’m just a soul whose intentions are good/Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood…” The Animals
Stories Are For Eternity 