Back to life…

Back to life…

Back to reality…I bet you didn’t know who sang those lyrics, but you had heard the song. Yes? It was Soul II Soul. Not that it matters!

So–I am sure you have felt those sentiments. After a vacation, back to work on a Monday morning. Usually it’s a bittersweet thing. You may be glad to be back home, to sleep in your own bed and get back to your normal routines, but you’re also sad the vacation or the weekend is over.

In my case, I’m coming back to life and back to reality in a happy way. For the first time in a very long time, I just have decisions like “what should we have for dinner?” to think about. There are some points in life where the complexity and responsibilities let up, and one can breathe a (momentary?) sigh of relief.
This is one of those times. For many years I was so focused on providing, for my mom, for any future children, for Dave and I. Both financially and in our home lives. And, for my mom, providing care and assistance with everyday things.

As I’ve said before, caregiving is no fun, for either the giver or the receiver. On one level, it’s the easiest thing in the world. Some extra laundry, help loading a wheelchair into a car. Walking slow to pace my mom’s breath.

On the other, watching mom struggle–mightily–with ordinary things I take for granted like breathing, or reading, or dressing, broke my heart every moment of every day. I knew things will continue to decline and it wasn’t getting any easier for her.

Then there’s the emotional side. Preserving her dignity became the most important thing. But, navigating the gauntlet of how to achieve that was very, very dicey. Do I intervene and help? Do I let her struggle in frustration? For how long?

I lost the ability to share the happy, vital parts of my life with her. She couldn’t participate and I didn’t want her to feel left out. I felt guilty for being young, fortunate, healthy and vital.

Add to that the stress of everyday life, and the mystery of not knowing what we were in for… financially,… emotionally. How long I would sit by helpless against her disease process? It was just sad, sad, sad. And draining for everyone.

I could only imagine the depth of my mom’s frustration, her vulnerability, her grief. She was mostly cheerful, and I could see how much effort she put into trying to keep a stiff upper lip. And, sure, because I was the person who was there, I also bore the brunt of her stress, mostly during times when she had to walk. Which, I understand, feels like drowning or suffocating when you can’t breathe. So, it was absolutely understandable. I could empathize.

So–yes, I wish things could have been very, very different for my mom. In just about every aspect of her life. I am relieved that I could provide as much comfort, love and dignity as possible for her. And that I got to be there during her final moments. I am also relieved that all of our suffering is over.

And, with the recent losses in the family, I’m thinking about how much time I have left on earth and wanting to make the most of the time. And, I am ready to savor life. To enjoy things as much as I possibly can.

When I am so focused on acheivement and providing, I tend to neglect the homefires. It just feels like no one is home. I do the minimum of homemaking, but the joy and enjoyment is lost. Everything and everyone feels rushed. I’m exhausted when I try to do both.

It’s a new moment. I can let go of mom with love. I can accept my limitations on my time, energy and focus. I can accept that most people sacrifice something in life–be it time, money, quality of life, time with children, or time with parents and family. No choice is perfect or easy. There’s always wondering “What if…?”

I’m looking forward to life with my new concept: SAVORING. Enjoying all of what life has to offer. Savoring pre-supposes wholesomeness, health and moderation. Savoring leaves nothing behind. Savoring is being fully present and 100% on board. No pre-occupation. No regrets.

I was taught well by my family to savor. Dave’s family takes it to an art form. They are at the virtuoso level. For so long, with all the stress and emotion, I was in an abyss of anxiety, discomfort and fear. No more.

That’s my take-away. The gifts from the losses.