An early Mother’s Day ode

I read a tip in Self magazine that one should try a week without bitching. Which meant mentally slapping my hand every time I fired up my blog dashboard. Because, what are these things for, if not to kvetch on?

It was a hard week. Workwise and otherwise.

I do want to clarify that I’ve really come to enjoy my mom. Sure she drives me crazy, what with living with me for seven-ish years now.

But if I’d instead spent this time married or otherwise shacking up with some possessive or, worse, boring windbag who couldn’t cook/clean or who gave me shit about my work schedule, well, I totally won this last near-decade.

Mom’s health is really at the point of “if a miracle doesn’t happen soon …” We’ve kind of said our goodbyes already. That’s where we’re at.

Don’t worry. I’ll keep working and driving a lot and not missing a beat or any new project, to keep a roof over our heads. Wouldn’t want anyone to worry that I’ll dip into my two months’ vacation or anything like that.

Hell, I canceled one of my doctor’s appointments this week. Not looking for applause or a parade or anything. Just, I wish my dumbass friends would stop posting shit on Facebook like they’re having a boring day or week or that they have plans after work and date nights and shit. Not interested.

Mom commented to me the other day that my Facebook life is everyone’s fantasy, including my own. Check-ins from bars. Photos of beaches. Comments about whatever wine I’m trying this weekend.

All those moments are fleeting. I take the photo and leave for work. Or fire up the computer and work on a friend’s resume or cover letter. Or go worry about something I didn’t have time to do in the 70-something hours I DID devote to my projects.

I found myself shouldering some blame unnecessarily these past two weeks. And to be honest, I’ve done it at my past two jobs, too. Things I had no control over. Things I asked for and didn’t receive. Things that were committed for delivery by a certain date, and me not receiving them meant a slight delay on my end.

I don’t throw people under the bus. I see us all as a team — hell, a FAMILY — and our job is to support each other. Unless someone’s being overtly malicious (and we’ve got one of those, too), I feel it’s best to just not torch a bridge I need to traverse a few thousand more times in my lifetime.

Because, I really really really appreciate it when they have my back, too. And most of them do.

And sometimes I admit I take it upon myself to own it. Not that I want, need or deserve blame. Blame shouldn’t even be in these conversations. But it’s implied sometimes.

I saw myself get ousted from my last job for doing the same thing. Of course, that nutty bitch just fired someone during her first week because the girl wasn’t a fan of the commute. So, using that asylum as a yardstick for what should or shouldn’t work is like telling men that four inches is really 12.

Anyway, so if I bitched last week, the rants would have been along these lines.

So instead I just want to reiterate that while having my mom be 100% dependent on me, and me failing a dozen ways to Sunday to get her health care and the other things she really needed, we’ve had so much fun.

We were at a restaurant yesterday, and a server who wasn’t ours said, “I love walking by your table. You’ve never stopped laughing. You two seem like such pleasant people.”

We were probably laughing AT someone in our lives. But she’s right. We have fun.

And I pray maybe this is the turning point I’ve needed to arrive at, for things to start going our way. That things aren’t easy and not the way I pictured them to be. But they’ve been really good — better than good, in most cases.

So, good for all of you who have your families covered by healthcare, and good for all of you who are working on expanding your families and taking international trips and attending classes and finding time with friends while I am enslaved to *something* (whatever it is).

Like Mom always tells me, everyone is going on with their lives but me.

But this season of stress is going to resolve itself one way or another. Either she gets the help she needs (preferred solution) or she can’t take the pain anymore and I have to let her go (obviously, not the right answer).

But I have to stop being afraid that things AREN’T going to change at all, and to be ready for where my journey leads next.

Because, being terrified all the time and killing myself to hold on to “the way things are” really doesn’t seem like much of a solution, either, when you think about it.

The bigger message for me is to enjoy it while we have it. And that, I promise you, is something I’ve finally, finally learned how to do.

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