It's hard to believe a year has flown by since my Dad died. Now that Mom is moved into long-term nursing, I have the daunting task of tearing down the 25 years of my parent's lives in Florida. Last night I was thinking of my mother's old age as a revisit to babyhood. All it takes now is diapers, feeding and a large 'stroller'/wheelchair to maintain her, a small bunch of clothes, a few photos...and a routine of maintenance care. When we grow from babies, we master our universe. When we grow old, we seem to fold in on ourselves, until we disappear into a slip in time, like crabs scuttling out of sight of the known world. Dad, of course being Dad, had to go out with a big bang. Full on drama. Mom being Mom is doing it her way...losing herself a little at a time...fading out like an old movie coming to the end of its reel.
Dad is so much on my mind; wandering around the condo, I keep hearing him cajole, instruct and correct me about everything I'm trying to do. How do I answer to his memory or legacy when there is nothing I can do to suspend this process of dissolution? I can accept the times of change, but then I'm still a full functioning citizen of the world. I wonder about him- is he at peace? Is he waiting for Mom? Has he razzed the other world the same way he did us, kicking up holy hell until everything is in order again?
Memorial Day weekend was our jump off point, and yet it was the month before that he went into nursing after his big fall. At least Mom is not having major health issues. And her dementia is such that she really doesn't seem plugged in to reality much at all. This, I realize is a blessing. And I am glad for her that so much of her conscious thoughts are focused on her loved ones whom she doesn't realize have passed. I am certain more than ever: the way is now clear for her to come home.
Melancholic bass notes below the range of manic stress at work, and keeping up with my own health and emotional issues. I am the silent patient. When I treat myself, I look for all the inspiration I can find to keep my motivation intact. Today's Runner's World forum quote: "...be gentle with yourself" in response to 'burn-out'.
My very easy 4 miles- if that- today was a gift to myself. Enough to get out and move, breathe, think. Not any further than I could handle with ease.
So now it's down to functionality. The artist in me scans everything for meaning and design behind the curtain of Maya. My heart wants to be intimately involved, while my body keeps morphing into new and unknown forms...I want to create a new life out of these ashes that still carries my stamp of wonder, faith and belief in the right turning of this wheel.
No comments:
Post a Comment