It’s been awhile since I have posted on this blog. I spent the last four months helping my mother close out her life in western New York State and move to Atlanta. I spoke about this in my last post. My mother will be 80 in a couple weeks, and while her health is relatively good, she has some developing health problems and has slowed considerably. She needed to move away from the responsibility of a three bedroom home with a full basement and an acre of yard. And we are talking western NY after all. She was damn sick of snow and ice.
I was pleased my mother decided for herself to change her life situation and that it was not forced upon her. Even with that, it was an emotional and complicated process. My Dad died four years ago of cancer, and I watched my Mom make the transition to this stage of her life. As an older women alone trying to decide how to mange her support needs and her support networks, she looked at both her children to decide her next steps. My brother, and only sibling, lives in Delaware, and is an active sports enthusiast. Me and my partner live in Atlanta, GA, are home bodies who love to cook. It seemed like a logical choice that she move warmer and our way (no offense meant to my brother). We spent a long time talking about it, and I know she thought long and hard about her options. Care-taking does seem to be a daughter thing, partly because we assume it and partly because it is assumed of us. I am too tired at the moment to debate which is the greater influence.
My Mom stayed with us for the first couple months she was in Atlanta, something both my partner and I enjoyed immensely. We helped her learn her way around, fought with the health insurance companies, let her drive us places so she could find her own way, took her to see apartments, watched TV shows, followed the NY Yankees, tried to keep up with the Buffalo Bills, and helped her sew her way into the tapestry that is our lives. I have occasionally wondered under my breath where my father was, but for the most part, the picture has been pretty good.
Mom found an apartment she loves only a couple of blocks from us – her own “diggs” but almost like still being with us. We can walk over with our dog for a drink in the afternoon and all of us can feel comfortable going our own way. Can’t ask for a better outcome. She is nesting at the moment, but also starting to think about ways to reach out to develop her own life tapestry. She is one tough broad.
In this experience, however, I have learned about another stage of life that, up to this point, was not familiar to me. As adults we build a life pace that fits our needs when we are expected to get things done and be productive. I am sure none of this is earth shattering, but when you are experiencing it for the first time, it is different than in the books. Anyway, you are focused on the next thing, the list in your head. When my mother moved in and I realized her life pace was totally different than mine, I had to shift. I was left with two choices. I could push against her pace with my own and be frustrated, or I could learn to stand in the moment. I decided, most of the time, to choose the later.
I take more time to do things, walking slower so she can keep up. I listen, usually patiently, while she tells me in some detail about an issue or problem or missing item from the move and I don’t immediately feel that I should “do something.” I enjoy the hugs when we are able to just be together for simple, small things that seem quite extraordinary under these new circumstances. None of this means I have stopped my desire to be productive and pursue my goals and ideals. I just feel that I have more times “in the moment” than I can ever remember.
I am not going to tell you I enjoyed all of them with the same degree of delight. I will tell you that there is something instructive about standing in that space. I don’t totally understand all of this yet, and I continue to sort it out for myself. But at the moment, I feel truly blessed and grateful. And life comes full circle.
I am learning to relinquish the scheduled pace of my life in favor of standing in the moment.