2:28 p.m. - 2005-04-19
I finally did it Ö I finally told my mom Ö Iím going to bend my rules Ö
Iím going to visit my mom next month in Alberta. I dragged my feet for a good 10 days before telling her. I could no longer procrastinate.
She was jubilant. My dear sweet 83-year-old mom veritably jumped for joy. Well, actually Ė whatever he walker would allow. She could barely speak, and got very muddled when trying to figure out what dates I would arrive. I suppose this is a good sign that I made the right choice.
My siblings and I have come to the conclusion that itís time to take action regarding our momís living arrangements. Sheís been living in the same home for 30 years. Dadís been gone for 5, and the abode is beginning to show the signs of house without a handyman. Little plumbing problems there, furnace worriment here, and just general older house things. None of we siblings live close - one brother in California, myself on the west coast, and the other brother in northern Alberta.
Thankfully the oldest and geographically closest brother has acknowledged that he is the best choice for her to move to. Thankfully, she doesnít want to live where either of us remaining two lives.
I realize this sound harsh, and uncompassionate, perhaps ungodly, but I (we) are only human, and I will not explain myself here.
None-the-less Ė I am off to see what I can do about beginning to get my momís house in order. There is much sorting to be done. There is much to be taking to goodwill, and there is much to throw out. The difficulty will come when my mom has different ideas of sorting, goodwill, and throwaway piles.
Iím trying to convince my nieces to come join me for a day or two. One reason being that they will be an excellent buffer between the generations. Reason two - there way to much fun to be with, and Iíll need to distraction. I remember how to laugh again when Iím around them.
So, this is what my mind has been consumed with lately. That, and the piles of work on my desk have been threatening to revolt. Actually Ė the paperwork piling up on my desk IS revolting, but must be tackled. So if you donít hear from me again in the near future, send out the cavalry Ė Iíll have been buried under a mountain of work. The old adage applies Ė Iíve fallen and I canít get up.
Did I tell you that itís a good 18-hour drive between here and my momís house. Does anyone have a spare week to come and keep me company on the drive?