A Woman's Snapshot

I remember as a young child when my grandmother went into a nursing home.  It had such a strange hold over me, at 12 years old, when I first walked in and  realized that I would no longer visit my Oma in her kitchen.  The kitchen that smelled like fried plantains and peas while Harry Belafonte played on the record player.  The bathroom that smelled of Crest toothpaste, Ivory soap, and mildew.  

It wasn't long before I recognized that life is a full circle.  Maybe it took me two weeks to see this?  We would go every week to visit her.  And every week, we would walk in and see forgotten men and women sitting in diapers watching cartoons on the TV from their wheelchairs.  It terrified me.  It comforted me knowing how I would become.  It made my sister realize she wanted to be a social worker.  48 years old now, and she's comforting people in their end-of-life.

Several years ago, I started cleaning my father's feeding tube.  He could no longer eat.  But he never wanted to watch cartoons.  A few weeks later, my mom and I needed to help each other change his diaper.  He passed two weeks later.  Maybe it was the shame.

Today, I talk to my mom on the phone 1-2 times a day.  I visit at least every two days.  She doesn't have a TV to watch cartoons and she doesn't need a diaper yet.  But life is a full circle.  She took care of me when I was young.  She took care of me when I lost myself in my 20s.  I hide my habits from her today.  She's here to listen to me in my 40's when I get frustrated with my teens.  And I am the one taking care of her; making sure she has food in her fridge, water, paying her bills on time, keeping track of day-to-day necessities.  

I'm tired.  I am so tired.  But I don't have time to cry.  I have laundry to do.  I have a house to clean and a career to tend to.  I have teens to ignore when they have attitudes and I need to be there for them when they need their mom.  I have students I adore that break my heart and fill my soul all at the same time.  It's exhausting.  I have a husband to worry about; maybe he's tired of me.  I want to sleep but at the same time I want to live.  Really live.  Open road, windows rolled down, music up loud, with my hair blowing wildly in the wind.  But I'm too tired for all of that.  And I need to check on my mom tomorrow.