December 19, 2011: It may be fortunate that I do not have a family right now, because I am free to be financially irresponsible, working part time, deferring school loans, and flying up to be with Mom for a week every month. She has a very busy social calendar now, such as: Sunday, visits from Nausea and Retching; Monday she entertains Ginger Ale; Tuesday, grocery delivery, my arrival, and a scolding from Dr. W for losing weight (“Not eating enough!”). Wednesday brings Overwhelm and Fatigue, which cancels her appointment with Dr. C.; Thursday we are joined by Hip Pain and do not tour the Hospice House. This is why I am visiting only two weeks after my last visit: she wanted me to help her dodge a call from Complete Meltdown.
One of the great lessons that I am learning from being with Mom is that I do not have to believe what she believes, or to feel the way she feels. I, for instance, do not believe that the neighbors hate her. I do not believe that Dr. B. was challenging her when he commented that she used high levels of pain medications. I don’t even think that her acquaintance is being excessively friendly when she takes more than one e-mail to arrange a drop-off of kosher deli goodies all the way from Rhode Island. I am very happy that I don’t have to see things the way Mom does.
During my first visit after the diagnosis, Mom said tearfully that she was so very happy that I have finally matured to the point that I am willing to work on our relationship. At first this made me angry. But in a sense, I now think that she was right. It takes a lot of maturity to guide someone else, to listen to others respectfully while disagreeing, to know when to insist and when to give in, and to do it all in a way that helps the other person live a better life. I have done a lot of maturing to get to the point where I can do this for her. And I feel great purpose in doing so.
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