My energy levels plummeted and even dragging myself through an Insanity workout didn't help. My friends from downstairs came up for a BYO dinner, and she watched the kids while I struggled to barely tidy the kitchen.
This morning, against my will, I forced myself to bike to work, knowing the blood pumping through my legs and the fresh air coursing through my lungs would cheer me up.
And sometime about lunch time, I was better.
My brother's been reading a Buddhist book on death, and his advice to accept my mother's imminent death suddenly clicked.
Let me be clear. This is not what I want. I want her to live for twenty more years. I want her to see Calliope graduate from high school. I want her to meet her future grandchildren. I want her to retire gracefully from the law firm she founded, and to go on fabulous trips around the world. I want her to take the Sisterhood by storm, and make small but significant changes in the world.
This is not what's going to happen.
And that sucks.
But fighting that truth won't change it. Hoping for each miracle, and protesting its failure won't change the final outcome. It will just bring me misery.
So I'm quietly changing my expectations.
I'm not going to advise her on how to cope. Thank god, I have never had to be in her shoes.
I will be here for her in whatever way I can. I'm going to visit her (alone) this weekend. I'm hoping to take her on a trip in a few weeks. I will spend the summer with her.
But I will stop fighting. And gracefully, I hope, accept the blessing of what time we have left.
|Calliope was so tender with Baby Eliza and didn't want to put her down... I think we are|
both thinking that one of these might be just the thing for our family!