I Find Myself at a Fulcrum
 |
| My mother's garage full of memories and red jeans for energy. |
When our big kids flew the coop, the house dynamics completely changed. We used to set the table every night for a well-balanced, home-cooked meal. Roundtable discussions were encouraged and boisterous. Our whole schedule was routine...dinner at six, baths at seven, and bedtime at eight. These days I'm lucky to deliver soup and sandwich, for one, on a little placemat, at the counter. Our youngest is in middle school, so conversations are over quickly. She yearns for independence but still wants her mom close at hand.
The Big Kids? They'll always come by...and when they leave, I worry more than when they lived here. They neeeeed guidance (and cash) through their formidable 20's.
Los Angeles.........just sayin'.
Here's where I find myself.... in the middle. My 80-year-old mother and her husband are downsizing from a large 4 bedroom home, with a garage, to a two bedroom apartment, 900 square feet...no garage! They need assistance! As we sort through closets, there are items, lots of them, that have been pushed to the back and forgotten. This isn't going to be a leisurely or easy move and it all has to happen in one month...this month. The home staging is scheduled for the first of April and their home is packed with 25 years of memories. I am helping where I can.
Where does that leave me? I am a simple girl with a dream.
As I came home from work the other day, our neighbor was outside...distraught. Their house had been robbed. We have a security camera recording motion that faces out toward our driveway and also captures their home across the street. Maybe, I could be of some assistance in fingering the perps?! Unfortunately, had I noticed that the security camera was dead, I could have recharged the battery...two weeks ago. I failed.
"Time, time, time. See what's become of me. While I looked around for my possibilities..." A Hazy Shade of Winter lyrics by Paul Simon
And I'm not running around back and forth from set to set anymore...my hips are shot. The stress from being pulled in so many directions as a mother, wife, and daughter, the responsibility as a boss to keep people employed, and the inescapable longing to express myself as an individual has me completely overwhelmed. I can't be the only one.
My plan for the Emotional Support Therapy Dog wasn't the best.
 |
| Ryder is a 70 lb. fur covered heart. |
Next week: When siblings get involved.
