I moved to BC
to live with my mother
(the VOD)
whilst recouping from
a tragic and horrific
breakup
and dealing with
a very aggressive occurrence
of Crohn's Disease
I spent virtually the first year
I was here
being the blob that ate my mother's couch
when I wasn't in the hospital
I was unable to work
and the VOD cared for me
it does something to one's ego
to go from being a contributing adult
back to being a kid
that needs their momma to help them
thus began the ride of the last 12+ years
as I got better
and the VOD got worse
we lived
side by side
in 2 apartments
in the end
I'm far from better
and the VOD is far from worse
but we survive...
In Nov the VOD
moved into assisted living
at the behest of the bother
aka "the Golden Boy"
this week
she moves out of assisted living
and up the Island
to live with my bother
and his adult children
while I know
that in the end
this move
is the best for both of us
I can't help but be struck
by this feeling of loss
at the idea that I will now
have to drive 3 hours
to see a member
of my immediate family
I have mixed emotions
because I know I am embarking on
the next chapter of my life...
so there is trepidation
resignation and excitement
my blister
who still lives back east
compounds my resistance
to the change
by sending me the following email...
"welcome to the orphanage"
it made me realize
that I'm gonna miss the VOD
but I'm looking forward
to what my life will have to offer
going forward
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
It is hard to grow old, suffer health problems, and watch our parents become unable to safely live by themselves anymore. My wife and I took care of my dad from about 1998 until he eventually died in convalescent care in 2004. We were also taking care of my mother-in-law from 1997 until she had a stroke in 2005, and died about 6 months later. Of course we volunteered our lives away at a couple needy churches, while I was working and going to school full time from 1993 to 2002. I relate to the life experiences we baby boomers (I'm assuming you may be in your 50's like me) all seem to be faced with.
Post a Comment