mom and 'her new kitty' ( my cat buttercup )
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
8-18 new set of wheels
a while back i went to see this woman who is a psychic. i met her last winter when she taught a one-night class at the local community college here entitled 'developing your psychic abilities'
it was a really great class. i can't say i could go out and charge people for a psychic reading, but it felt really good to be in the class. we've kept in touch, and i decided to get myself a session for my birthday. partly because i turned 30 and it felt like some sort of important life marker and partly because i have felt so lost i decided to seek out all the help i could get.
when i got around to asking her about my family, she paused for a minute, then asked 'is there a new baby in the family? i'm seeing a baby crying'
'no' i told her, thinking for a minute---i would be the most likely of my family to be having a baby as i'm the right age for it, and there is definitely no plan of that happening.
today my mom, stepdad and my mom's sister went to annapolis for the day. the plan was to eat sushi, sit by the water, maybe do some window shopping. recently my stepdad got my mom a wheelchair, and she has been using it more and more in place of her walker. i worry she is moving even less, but also glad she can go more places and i decide i'll be the one to push her around for the day. the chair tends towards the right, and sometimes there are bumps in the sidewalks we get caught on and my mom grumbles but mostly i have it under control.
traveling down the street, we pass a lot of people. i cross an intersection, making sure there is enough time to get me and mom across safely, and coming the other direction is a tall shaven headed guy maybe in his 30's pushing a baby stroller. it is this strange moment--the two of us passing each other in the middle of the road, continuing on our way. he probably thought nothing of it, but it occured to me that he could be me, this wheelchair could be a stroller and no one would think twice about us on the street. there would be no curious or sad glances from strangers at restaurants or as they kindly hold a door for us at a store. people would smile and probably ask about and say cute things to the baby as people tend to do. it's strange the divide that i feel. maybe that dad is miserable and hates pushing that baby around, who knows, but i guess i think he might be really happy and proud with that stroller in front of him.
i do often have this feeling of being a parent. and i'm old enough to be, certainly, i have friends with kids and all and by the time my mom was 30 i was about 6 years old. but i never felt i was the right kind of person to have a kid. mainly i'm not convinced i really know how to care for myself well enough or give up enough of my own time and space to truly be a good parent. so i sort of wrote it off as an option, instead focusing on me and who i am, who i'm becoming, what i want to do, who i want to be with, etc. and that seems to take a whole lot of energy. now a lot of that is on hold most of the times. i'm often up in the middle of the night if my mom is stirring. i get her some food, i help her get her pants on and off in the bathroom, i put a blanket on her, take a blanket off of her, put it back on again later. i have to make sure i have all her stuff when we leave the house, and plan ahead with snacks or changes of clothes or things like that. i've never had to be so alert with someone else, including i guess myself. making sure she is safe, fed, warm, etc. it's strange because it does feel like a new baby in the family but i don't really feel like a grown up. i'm playing the part better and better but there is still a lot that is so new.
and she is this grown up, too young to be an old person needing help, and too old to have to be treated like a kid. it's all such a strange shift.
it was a really great class. i can't say i could go out and charge people for a psychic reading, but it felt really good to be in the class. we've kept in touch, and i decided to get myself a session for my birthday. partly because i turned 30 and it felt like some sort of important life marker and partly because i have felt so lost i decided to seek out all the help i could get.
when i got around to asking her about my family, she paused for a minute, then asked 'is there a new baby in the family? i'm seeing a baby crying'
'no' i told her, thinking for a minute---i would be the most likely of my family to be having a baby as i'm the right age for it, and there is definitely no plan of that happening.
today my mom, stepdad and my mom's sister went to annapolis for the day. the plan was to eat sushi, sit by the water, maybe do some window shopping. recently my stepdad got my mom a wheelchair, and she has been using it more and more in place of her walker. i worry she is moving even less, but also glad she can go more places and i decide i'll be the one to push her around for the day. the chair tends towards the right, and sometimes there are bumps in the sidewalks we get caught on and my mom grumbles but mostly i have it under control.
traveling down the street, we pass a lot of people. i cross an intersection, making sure there is enough time to get me and mom across safely, and coming the other direction is a tall shaven headed guy maybe in his 30's pushing a baby stroller. it is this strange moment--the two of us passing each other in the middle of the road, continuing on our way. he probably thought nothing of it, but it occured to me that he could be me, this wheelchair could be a stroller and no one would think twice about us on the street. there would be no curious or sad glances from strangers at restaurants or as they kindly hold a door for us at a store. people would smile and probably ask about and say cute things to the baby as people tend to do. it's strange the divide that i feel. maybe that dad is miserable and hates pushing that baby around, who knows, but i guess i think he might be really happy and proud with that stroller in front of him.
i do often have this feeling of being a parent. and i'm old enough to be, certainly, i have friends with kids and all and by the time my mom was 30 i was about 6 years old. but i never felt i was the right kind of person to have a kid. mainly i'm not convinced i really know how to care for myself well enough or give up enough of my own time and space to truly be a good parent. so i sort of wrote it off as an option, instead focusing on me and who i am, who i'm becoming, what i want to do, who i want to be with, etc. and that seems to take a whole lot of energy. now a lot of that is on hold most of the times. i'm often up in the middle of the night if my mom is stirring. i get her some food, i help her get her pants on and off in the bathroom, i put a blanket on her, take a blanket off of her, put it back on again later. i have to make sure i have all her stuff when we leave the house, and plan ahead with snacks or changes of clothes or things like that. i've never had to be so alert with someone else, including i guess myself. making sure she is safe, fed, warm, etc. it's strange because it does feel like a new baby in the family but i don't really feel like a grown up. i'm playing the part better and better but there is still a lot that is so new.
and she is this grown up, too young to be an old person needing help, and too old to have to be treated like a kid. it's all such a strange shift.
Friday, August 15, 2008
8-15 two dozen donuts
the first thing i agree to do today is taking my mom to the dentist. she just had a have a root canal. a fucking root canal on top of everything else. she's been there a few times the past few weeks. i can't believe how much time one person can spend at appointments.
'i want to stop at dunkin on the way there,' she tells me
'you want coffee?'
'yeah, and i want to pick up some donuts for their office'
'donuts? for the dentist?'
'yeah'
oh geez, i think. it's pretty out of control how many gifts all these various doctors have received from my mom. dvds, cds, books. the fireman who came to help her up off the floor on 2 separate occasion got stew one time and cake another. i helped to make the cake.
okay. it's really sweet. i can get them a box of donuts if that is what she wants.
we pull up.
'i want a coffee, a maple donut, and 2 dozen donuts for the staff'
'2 dozen donuts? how many people work there?' i ask
'oh there's a lot of people'
the next thing i know i am picking out an assortment of 24 donuts for my mom's dentist and his staff. we get there and i hand them to the front desk receptionist. i count her, the hygenist, the dentist, oh, one more hygenist...that's a lot of fucking donuts.
they are very grateful
'how thoughtful! thank you' they say. i think it's funny to bring one of the most sugary treats to a dentist office but once my mom makes up her mind forget it.
and this is how it is. the nurse at the family doctor's office gets the watch my mom came in wearing because she commented on how pretty it was. the next thing you know she is listening to my mom's heart and the watch is being slipped around her wrist while she holds the stethoscope. my mom gives and gives and gives and it's like she can't stop even when she has no energy for anything else. she's too tired to walk, i've been pushing her in a wheelchair. she's too tired to talk very much, to do her projects. but she can't stop with the gifts. who is this lady? how can anyone so good get so sick? i keep hoping she will get back all of what she has put out into the world. all that she is still putting out even now...
'i want to stop at dunkin on the way there,' she tells me
'you want coffee?'
'yeah, and i want to pick up some donuts for their office'
'donuts? for the dentist?'
'yeah'
oh geez, i think. it's pretty out of control how many gifts all these various doctors have received from my mom. dvds, cds, books. the fireman who came to help her up off the floor on 2 separate occasion got stew one time and cake another. i helped to make the cake.
okay. it's really sweet. i can get them a box of donuts if that is what she wants.
we pull up.
'i want a coffee, a maple donut, and 2 dozen donuts for the staff'
'2 dozen donuts? how many people work there?' i ask
'oh there's a lot of people'
the next thing i know i am picking out an assortment of 24 donuts for my mom's dentist and his staff. we get there and i hand them to the front desk receptionist. i count her, the hygenist, the dentist, oh, one more hygenist...that's a lot of fucking donuts.
they are very grateful
'how thoughtful! thank you' they say. i think it's funny to bring one of the most sugary treats to a dentist office but once my mom makes up her mind forget it.
and this is how it is. the nurse at the family doctor's office gets the watch my mom came in wearing because she commented on how pretty it was. the next thing you know she is listening to my mom's heart and the watch is being slipped around her wrist while she holds the stethoscope. my mom gives and gives and gives and it's like she can't stop even when she has no energy for anything else. she's too tired to walk, i've been pushing her in a wheelchair. she's too tired to talk very much, to do her projects. but she can't stop with the gifts. who is this lady? how can anyone so good get so sick? i keep hoping she will get back all of what she has put out into the world. all that she is still putting out even now...
Thursday, August 14, 2008
8-13
tonight is my first night alone in this house.
i moved in a few of my things, but it is still mostly not my space yet.
on sunday 2 carloads of friends are coming to help me organize this place.
it feels like a huge task---i am lucky so many people want to help me. feels like every surface is covered with things. it's like a whole flea market exploded inside this house---cool treasures, fun things, stuff from the past that doesn't quite have a place in the present.
i had this memory as i walked into the house of being 5 years old and getting my first tetanus shot. my memory of my childhood is pretty terrible, but this stands out because the whole thing hurt so much afterwards and i remember being told i wouldn't have to get another one until i was ten and i felt so relieved.
'by then i'll be so big' i thought to myself 'and i won't be scared and it won't hurt'
ten felt so far away. it would be a whole other me who would come back into the office for that shot and i'd be all grown up. i had nothing to worry about.
i don't remember the specifics of the next shot i got but i do remember thinking 'wait, i don't feel that much bigger or stronger, i'm still scared of how much it's going to hurt' somehow ten wasn't as different than 5 as i thought.
it's like that now---i'm 30, and i don't feel ready to be dealing with what is happening in my life. i'm not going to get any bigger and it's hard to know how it would feel to be 60 and taking care of my mom, but that is more how i imagined things going.
here i am in the this big strange house that doesn't smell familiar that is in a town where i hardly know anyone and most of my experiences in have to do with tragic things happening.
i talked to a friend of a friend on the phone who is a little older than me and whose mom passed a few years ago. she said something like 'you can deal with this' and i immediately thought 'you don't even know me---how would you know what i can deal with?' it was a nice thing for her to say. she meant it to be comforting of course but this feels like the ultimate of tests or challenges.
she told me how she curled up in the bed with her mom her last few days and how much better her life is now than it was before her mom was sick. how she knows how to love and be in relationships with other people in a way she didn't before all that happened. there is a lot of light in her voice and it sounds like she is really content. will that happen to me? is this the only way for that to happen? aren't there smaller things that can help me feel content and love really well? i didn't think i was doing so bad before all this happened...i don't feel like i need such a huge situation to gain that kind of insight...but it is comforting to hear someone find positive things out of such hard times.
i'm going to put sheets on the bed now---the bed is mine, that is familiar and right now i'm glad that it's here as something solid and mine in the middle of an unfamiliar room.
i moved in a few of my things, but it is still mostly not my space yet.
on sunday 2 carloads of friends are coming to help me organize this place.
it feels like a huge task---i am lucky so many people want to help me. feels like every surface is covered with things. it's like a whole flea market exploded inside this house---cool treasures, fun things, stuff from the past that doesn't quite have a place in the present.
i had this memory as i walked into the house of being 5 years old and getting my first tetanus shot. my memory of my childhood is pretty terrible, but this stands out because the whole thing hurt so much afterwards and i remember being told i wouldn't have to get another one until i was ten and i felt so relieved.
'by then i'll be so big' i thought to myself 'and i won't be scared and it won't hurt'
ten felt so far away. it would be a whole other me who would come back into the office for that shot and i'd be all grown up. i had nothing to worry about.
i don't remember the specifics of the next shot i got but i do remember thinking 'wait, i don't feel that much bigger or stronger, i'm still scared of how much it's going to hurt' somehow ten wasn't as different than 5 as i thought.
it's like that now---i'm 30, and i don't feel ready to be dealing with what is happening in my life. i'm not going to get any bigger and it's hard to know how it would feel to be 60 and taking care of my mom, but that is more how i imagined things going.
here i am in the this big strange house that doesn't smell familiar that is in a town where i hardly know anyone and most of my experiences in have to do with tragic things happening.
i talked to a friend of a friend on the phone who is a little older than me and whose mom passed a few years ago. she said something like 'you can deal with this' and i immediately thought 'you don't even know me---how would you know what i can deal with?' it was a nice thing for her to say. she meant it to be comforting of course but this feels like the ultimate of tests or challenges.
she told me how she curled up in the bed with her mom her last few days and how much better her life is now than it was before her mom was sick. how she knows how to love and be in relationships with other people in a way she didn't before all that happened. there is a lot of light in her voice and it sounds like she is really content. will that happen to me? is this the only way for that to happen? aren't there smaller things that can help me feel content and love really well? i didn't think i was doing so bad before all this happened...i don't feel like i need such a huge situation to gain that kind of insight...but it is comforting to hear someone find positive things out of such hard times.
i'm going to put sheets on the bed now---the bed is mine, that is familiar and right now i'm glad that it's here as something solid and mine in the middle of an unfamiliar room.
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