Think About It…

You can get it done quickly, cheaply, or of a high quality… choose any two. Or balance all three somehow until you can live with it. That’s how it is in this life. Did you ever think about that? That occurred to me today when I was thinking about some things. Maybe I should have been a philosopher (although I don’t think there’s much pay in that).

No, I agree, my relationship problems aren’t at all serious. I think they’re pretty run of the mill, common relationship problems. I’m glad of that. That is not to say that I have a run of the mill common relationship because I tend to think that it’s probably a little better than many relationships out there — but no relationship is perfect, mine is no exception there.

Therapy was very helpful today. I guess the time spent with my mother is weighing on me more than I realize. It is not an easy thing to deal with losing your parents. Oh, I know she’s still alive and actually in pretty good shape for an 82 year old woman because her mind is still okay. But it is still not easy to see her body deteriorate and there are so many feelings watching this process. There is the sadness is knowing that my mother is aging and may die soon. Somewhere inside I anticipate the time that I won’t be able to dial her number and hear that reassuring voice when I need it. Already I know there is a limit to what she can do for me and when I can reach her. Looking at my mother’s body there is revulsion at her aging mingled with compassion and sympathy for her vulnerability and fear that I will be and look like that someday. And, like Ebeneezer Scrooge when he threw himself at the feet of the Ghost of Christmas Future, I wonder if these are the shadows of what MUST be or the shadows of what MAY be. Will I be incapacitated and old or might I perhaps avoid it if I exercise and eat right? Then there’s shame at my feelings of revulsion. Wouldn’t a “good” daughter feel only compassion and love when caring for her mother? And there’s relief and self-esteem knowing that I actually AM doing something to help her and make her life easier. So, let’s count ‘em.. there’s sadness and grief, revulsion and almost horror, empathy and compassion, fear and worry, shame and relief and I’m sure I can come up with even more emotions if I continue to pull apart and analyze all of this.

My therapist, however, suggested that instead of continuing to analyze, perhaps I should just allow myself to feel my emotions for a change. Novel idea, huh? He pointed out that I have, throughout my life, handled my emotions by analyzing why I’m feeling them and then tried to avoid actually having them. Now, I’m actually stepping on that ground that I’ve so often avoided in the past which is experiencing them – thus the weepiness I’ve felt for the past few days. He thinks that’s good actually. And why is that, I wondered… because if they stay under the surface they come out in other ways… anxiety, eating, etc. etc. Better to just go ahead and let myself feel sad thinking about the fact that I’m losing my Mom, have a cry and it will subside. It’s just not the end of the world, I guess (even if giving into my sadness always sort of does feel like the end of the world to me – I’m usually sort of a chin up, snap out of it person with myself). So, anyway, I guess I feel a little better after therapy. If not better, at least I feel a little more as if I make sense to myself.

It’s just, when I think of losing my mother, it feels almost unbearable. I know I’m 51 years old. I’m twice as strong as her, she has no impact on my day to day life, she wasn’t even all that great a mom when I was growing up… but it feels unbearable to think of her dying. How do people stand it? When I lost my father I still had my mother. He had the Alzheimer’s disease so was gone for so long before he really died. Besides our relationship was different; it wasn’t like my relationship with my mom. I may have been helping her to the bathroom this past week but make no mistake about it, she still held all the cards – when she tells me how wonderful it is to have me there and how much help I am to her, she has ten times more power than I do, I don’t care how weak she is or how little she can move! I am eight years old again and basking in my mother’s praise. So how do people live through all this… losing their parents, watching their parents age and grow frail then die, yet somehow throughout this process remaining their parents’ children and enjoying the love they can still get yet coping with the imminence of its loss? It’s just so confusing. And you only have one mother and one father. You only get to do this once and it’s over. You just can’t waste it.