Going Home Again a Wild Ride

going home 1Sometimes, going home again is an emotional roller coaster.

I just returned from spending a week with my eighty-year-old mom.  To say it was depressing is an understatement.  Imagine a hermit crab washed up on the beach upside down, burnt to a crisp by the sun and crinkled into a nub, powerless to flip over, trapped in its shell. That’s how I felt after a week in her house.

The blinds were drawn in a gloomy nod to isolation. The thermostat was set to 85 degrees, about the same temperature as outside. To save on the a/c bills, she said. There was little food in her brand-new refrigerator and she was pencil-thin. Not hungry, she insisted as I pled with her to eat more.

She is still very independent, but her hearing, eyesight, and patience have deteriorated to a muddled mass of confusion. Plus, to complicate matters, she is firmly in denial. As far as she is concerned, she can drive, she can hear just fine with her hearing aids, (I get enough to understand! So what if I miss a few words? Huff, huff, mad face).  If she cannot hear people on the phone, she simply hangs up on them. In the meantime, to communicate with her, I must yell my brains out. She seems to think this is normal, appropriate behavior.

I’ve been back in my snug little house a week now. I’m trying – really hard – to flip right-side-up and uncrinkle. But it’s amazing how thisgoing home 3 particular visit sliced through my best intentions like a Ginsu knife. I reverted to a selfish brat intent on proving my decisions were better than her decisions, nanny-nanny-boo-boo. And in most cases, they actually were, but my attitude was not exactly stellar. Continue reading

A Friend is just a Friend, but a Cell Phone is Forever

cell phone articleI don’t know about you, but going from a busy, people-focused career to a stay-at-home, writing mode has been quite an adjustment. I’m still adjusting. I don’t know if I’ll ever adjust, but I’m working on it.

Most of my challenges have to do with self esteem. Think about it. When we are out and about and flitting around like butterflies, there are people, at least two or three, that are ALWAYS bragging on us, telling us how wonderful our latest cute top looks, or how incredibly flattering our makeup is. Just sayin’.

Add to that fact my husband, bless him, is not one to brag on or compliment his woman. To everyone else, he touts me to the skies, but do I ever hear about it? Sometimes. Not often, though. If you read this, that’s okay honey, I know you are yelling compliments at me silently. Continue reading

Sometimes Pity Party Yields Actual Party

Never feel self-pity, the most destructive emotion there is. How awful to be caught up in the terrible squirrel cage of self. ~ Millicent Fenwick

pity party 1Last week I was caught up in the terrible squirrel cage of self, and it poured from my mouth in a torrent of excoriation (look it up) and blatant disregard for feelings of others. In short, I was an emotional stick of dynamite, lit and ready to explode.

On the eve of my @@##!! birthday, a milestone in every woman’s life, I was in a pretty darn sour mood.  My thoughts ran to decades past, to countless birthday celebrations I’d arranged for my kids, countered by the countless years I’d heard: sorry mom, broke this year, just thought a pity party 5phone call would do, haha. I understood, I did. Still do. But for whatever reason, this year, I’d had enough. I was tired of a phone call maybe two days after the fact. Tired of kids who’d put a nice post on FB, but Continue reading