Spring Awaits

My Christmas tree is still up in our sunroom, leaning gently to the left with an angel balancing ever so precariously on the top. There is mess all around me and Maire is lighting a stick of nag champa incense for me, knowing it’s a big part of my writing process. There was drama that preceded my sitting down to write, first with Maire and then with Mom. You may be surprised to know that I have shielded you from a lot of the difficulties we endure here. However, like most writers know, there comes a point when you have to push yourself to go a little further. And so, here I am.

As the days have turned into weeks and months, it is clear that Mom, at 88, has a few too many things on her plate. Dad’s needs have steadily increased over time and my sister Jan has been working hard to put more intensive help in place. A new home health aide schedule is starting tomorrow which will result in someone being here in the house for 4 hours a day, 6 days a week for Dad. Mom, however, does not deal well with change and that was made clear today. I got frustrated and angry with her about an hour ago, words were exchanged. Then, I paused. I reminded myself that I am not her nor do I have the backstory she has. Although I desperately want gratitude to override her dread, it is simply not how she operates. The growing pains associated with this change will be felt and weathered by all. Several years ago, when we moved back from Hawaii, Mom was firmly entrenched in her battle with lung cancer, Dad following along to every appointment. “How ya feelin?” he would ask her over and over again, a sign that told us that he too was fighting a battle of a different kind. She was the focus then, he is the focus now. The reality? Both need support

Today, Mom told me that she doesn’t want to be a burden to all of us and expressed frustration over a number of things. It was another difficult conversation and I cannot tell you how many of those we have had. After I wisely stepped away for a moment to collect my thoughts, I came back to her, put my arm around her shoulder, and quickly exhaled “You are not a burden. Because of you, I am here. Because of you, she is here.” I said, pointing to Maire. “Here we are on this little blue dot in the vastness of the universe and somehow, someway, we all got to live. Yes, this new stage is going to take some adjusting. Make a haircut appointment because you need one and start planning our bathroom makeover on Pinterest. That’s what you can do while the aide is here.” Mom wiped a couple tears away and admitted that she indeed needs a haircut and we all need that bathroom to be done.

As Maire showed Mom how to navigate Pinterest, a skill that she had picked up from Auntie Jan, I excused myself to go write and here I am. The earth around here is incredibly grey today and we New Englanders have a long road to haul before the trees show us their hidden lives again. Although I do love to make you all laugh, this week has been tough for a number of reasons and today was tough too. In all that toughness, I force myself to remember the vibrational warmth and hope of Spring and Summer. We will forge on in gratitude, get haircuts, and plan bathrooms on Pinterest while I await the first chorus of peep frogs in my woods.