Been a hard couple of days.
Was looking forward to a weekend with nothing on the schedule. Went over to Mom’s Thursday after work only to find she’d fallen. She was trying to move the trash cans, which were put away nicely, but in the wrong order. She took a misstep and fell.
So when I went over, instead of the healing bruises the hospital visit left, she had a whole new set of cuts, scrapes, bandages and swellings. Just bitchin.
So I heated up the spaghetti left from a dinner she had out with her friends, rearranged the trash cans, moved all the stuff she’d laid on the floor out of walking paths, swept and took out the trash.
Then I asked her, please, to stop putting stuff down in walking areas. There was a rake across the front walk when I came in, for crying out loud. Can you say ‘trip, fall down and break the other hip?’ I can, but don’t want to.
The more this stuff happens, and it seems to be on the increase, the less comfortable I am with her living alone. That’s why I go over there as often as I do. At least a couple of times a week and a phone call every day.
What happened to my mom-in-law is going to be a permanent ache in my heart. I’d really rather that not happen to Mom.
It’s been harder than I’d ever imagined to deal with mom-in-law’s death. She wasn’t my mom. I could never think of her so. But I’ve also never had in-laws before, even though I was married before.
I liked her more than I would have thought circumstance would allow. I miss her more than I would have thought possible.
She was nice. She was nice to me.
I had only a few examples to go on. You take care of your kids or you don’t.
I regret taking so much of our parents resources. I don’t regret the example they gave me.
It never gets easier. But you never regret doing what you should.