Here We Go

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Here We Go

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Took today, Thursday, and Friday off to finish the packing and start the actual moving of stuff. I'm exhausted.

I installed a smart thermostat that has a lock out PIN number so I don't come home and find the house 90 degrees. Thank goodness for electric company rebates.

Considering a sort of "granny cam" set up so I can keep an eye on things while at work. Actually a former coworker suggested it. There's one that allows for zoom and tilt and even two-way voice. Not too terribly expensive considering others but the one that interfaces with the smart thermostat and other gizmos costs more am in a quandary. And I really ought to have three of them to cover the house, four if I put one in the bathroom. While I want to move into a smart home all interfaced etc. (yes, I am a geek) I also have extremely limited funds. At some point there will probably be a "life alert" kind of thing too.

I am determined to have Mom here as long as possible. To keep things as normal for her as possible. But am worried that it will drive me nuts in the process. She is an introvert by nature so any kind of outside help from people she doesn't know well causes her extreme stress.

I am a highly logical, rational person. I have plans within plans, back-ups and contingencies, I am a fixer - the one the family and friends come to when there are problems to solve, I am a rules person, a dotter of the 'i' and crosser of the 't' ... and there is NOTHING that I can do to fix this situation.

The thing that gets to me the most is that I can't lean on my mommy. I can't talk to her about all of this, because it is her illness is the problem. Since I grew up with my grandmother also in the household -- three generations of strong willed women under one roof with one bathroom -- my mother and I were more like sisters than parent and child. My father was nowhere to be found but that's a whole other story. Mom's only 20 years older than I am. Grammy was 40 when she had my mom so.. me, add 20 years and you get Mom, and 40 to her years and you get Grammy. It wasn't Mom who ran the house. So our relationship is a bit different. We even shared a bedroom for much of my childhood. And because of this situation, it is normal for Mom to live with me. Grammy did not have any type of dementia though but she was with us.

My husband died in 1996. I miss him every single day. But I have NEVER missed him as much as I miss him right now.

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