Seems way too often my head gets in the way of my heart. I'll want to do something and my head will tell me to wait until such-and-such is over, or there's extra money, or so-and-so straightens out. Good luck with that. Not workin' so good.
Now it's my mom. My brain says...I can do whatever-it-is when she's better. (Before this latest occurence with her my major barrier was when my boys straighten up. Ha. Scratch that.) Not quite sure how to judge her improvement scale when she doesn't try, but my thoughts still run that way.
It's a mind game.
I'm seeing that stuff doesn't quit interrupting, and there really is a steady stream of other folks' junk that gets in my way. Feeling a bit of a fighting spirit, though. Like a woman who's been approached in a store by someone who she believes intends to do her harm, or at the least makes her uncomfortable...the two choices are to run or get fiercely back in that person's face.
I'm tired of running.
In the mornings my girls ask what we're doing on that particular day. After school and regular grocery shopping and picking up their brother at work, we've added visiting my mom every other day. With finding a balance in bringing cheer to her room, we all struggle with the weight of her apathy. Can't make other people care enough to get better. I walk out of her room toting such a load of emotional baggage.
Makes me angry.
And you know what's harmful in my mom's situation? Too much sympathy. The proverbial line about leading a horse to water fits here. She does not want to drink, so to speak.
I can sense disapproval from others. I sound like a big meanie. I want to ask if they've had a loved one in rehab. Do we only share good news and avoid the ugly bits? Is it disrespectful to get frustrated with my mom for not trying? How long do we allow her to wallow in her misery before we get tough? When will the bell go off in her head that gets her going? Will it go off? Will she spend the majority of her allowed days in rehab just lying in bed, refusing to work with the therapists? Will she survive long enough to come home to us bed-ridden?
I shudder at the thought.
She told her best friend, a woman with spirit and a cancer survivor, that she's tired of being positive. Yeah, it's pretty awful to have a second stroke in 3 years and be right back in the same place. I get it. But God spared her for some reason.
No disrespect intended, but she needs to set her crown aside, and fight to live. And it is a fight. Spit in the face of that stroke and work.
Needed to vent. Sympathies to anyone else in our shoes. It ain't pretty. And as long as the Lord graces us with another day, we need to have the decency to appreciate it for the miracle it is.