Thursday, September 14, 2017

{grace}

Yesterday. Slept poorly Tuesday night, anticipating questions at mom's nursing home care meeting regarding her financial situation. That was yesterday afternoon. I needn't have worried. The meeting was all specific to her health and well being, nothing tricky like money.

My oldest brother was there, in charge, which was refreshing. He said it looks like our mom never even had Medicaid as a secondary payment provider, which makes no sense to me, being she/we supposedly applied for it 4 years ago. Used it for two stints in her former rehab location. But, that place had to close down this spring. Financial issues. Makes you wonder.

Saw Mom before the meeting. Oldest daughter waited in the hallway, outside Mom's room, said she wasn't interested in seeing her. Yeah, I get it. Anyway, took Mom some sweaters she asked for, a shawl, flannel pajamas, socks. She was more excited at the pjs than anything. I could've been a stranger. She finished up a phonecall to my brother who lives out of town. Bye sweet darlin' she says to him. She barely looked up at me (she was in her wheelchair) though she did seem to like seeing photos of new baby Adelaide. Showed them to her new roommate, who she seems happier with versus her last one, who slept a lot. That first roommate, who also has to be in her 80s or 90s, tried to get in bed with Mom the first night. Mom told my brother she was sexually propositioned. Go ahead and laugh. We all did. Get over yourself, Mom. Roommate probably got confused like we all do. Good grief. Hence new roommate.

Anyway, after I left my mom in her room, went to the meeting, and after that was over and our daughter and I left the building, it was as if a light came on in my heart. I said goodbye to my mom. All this took place inside of me, but it's like as the door to the nursing home clanged shut (heavy security door), I felt all sorts of junk fall off of me. 

I feel reborn. Not kidding.

I attribute oldest daughter telling me Tuesday night that it's like I've had tunnel vision for months, living in a fog (visualize peeling off scales), and I also credit a book I read this week, Bonnie Gray's 'Awakening Spiritual Whitespace.'  Life changer.

I began reading it in bed Tuesday night, crying the whole time, underlining fiercely and finished it last night.

Realized that my mom has held me hostage for years, and I've let her. Believed I wasn't as good as my brothers, and that being female made me of less value. Odd but she's never thought of herself in that category. Another light coming on.

Have seen her once a week since she's been at this nursing home. Won't go next week. I don't need reminders of her mental game playing, and truly she's not a bit interested in seeing me. Once I accept the fact that my use to her is purely as a person who can deliver clothes, etc., then I'm freed up.
My heart says that of course she should want to see her only daughter, but that's not our reality.

Moms shouldn't reject their children. Period. Moms don't reject their children.

The cherry on top to this whole situation, though, is that my brother is seriously looking at a long term care facility that's clear out of town. Happy dance. As it is, her current place which she'll leave at month's end, is 30 minutes away, but to have her over an hour away is magical. I won't feel any guilt at having to regularly visit. Awesome.

My house says where have you been? You need to polish and dust me. Use me, says my house, as a symbol of the renewing of your heart. So today I'll put a coat of glossy black on the garage door and a soft buttery yellow on that little side table on the porch. Stroke and pet my house.

Leave the guilt and shame on the nursing home's doormat, where it belongs.

3 comments:

M.K. said...

I know what you mean about that door clanging shut. There are specific, unexpected moments in life when things change, and scales fall off us, and we round a corner. In relationships, it seems to take forever.
My grandmother (mom's mom) sounds much like your mother. My mother was an only child, and I am her only daughter, so you'd think I'd be special to my grandmother? Oh no. She played favorites (which seems to be a trend in that generation!), and my oldest brother (poor fellow) was the recipient of her "love" with many strings attached. My husband also, was the favorite of his grandmother, and that destroyed so much. I hate all that stuff. Mothers should love their kids, period. Often, a mother is the only last one who does.

Glad you are better. You mentioned not sleeping well Tuesday night. Then you mentioned reading a book that really got you revved up, emotionally, Tuesday night. Might be a connection? I have a hard time sleeping after watching emotionally loaded movies.

Enjoy your house, your happy place. Soothe your heart.

Come Away With Me said...

Hallelujah!

Cathy said...

It hurts like no other pain I am sure. It is a good thing that you are able to articulate some of the brokenness. Grace is the perfect word for it, and by applying His grace and forgiveness to such falleness and failure.

You are an amazing child of the King.

I like the thoughts of your soft buttery yellow side table...