The packers and movers and siblings and helpers and paid retirement community staff and friends all came together to move our parents to their new home today.
I even made a two-hour appearance.
*****
I feel different. I feel peaceful. I don’t feel insane all the time.
I’ve spent much of the last thirty+ years feeling frequently insane. Depressed. Anxious. Just, confused. Confused and lost.
Mostly, lost.
Always anxious. Always a little on edge. Always suspicious. Always assuming the worst in people, not the best.
The other day, the acupuncturist I see said that when you do trauma work, like EMDR, it calms down your central nervous system.
It’s starting to feel like that’s what’s going on.
So it felt good to actually visit my parents and see how much had been done to make it look like it usually looked at their other place. They did a phenomenal job, the packers and movers and everyone.
The packer was an angel. She is older, early 70’s, and has a company where she goes around helping with the elderly that need help, still independent but not able to manage themselves completely. She has amazing stories.
It’s not completely perfect. There are issues w/ her meds. There are some things at the house that need to be brought in. Overall, incredible. I didn’t lift a box. I couldn’t. I had a hard time w/ the two hours I was there.
At the end of my two hours, feeling pretty good about the overall situation, even the meds confusion, we were sitting in the dining room and they ordered dinner. They pondered the menu for a considerable time. They finally both settled on salmon and a salad bar pass.
As Mom was getting up to go to the salad bar, she leaned over and thanked me. She said she needed everyone of my prayers to keep going. She was crying. She thanked me for everything I’d done to help her. She said she knew I was working behind the scenes to make it happen.
Then.
About five minutes later, she told me she didn’t have diabetes. She said she’d keep taking the meds, but that she’d see what happened later since she didn’t really have diabetes.
I just sat there for a while. The last few interactions we’ve had on this topic, I ended up yelling. This time, I just listened. I finally told her softly that the doctor had told her she had diabetes, the last visit. She didn’t get mad but she said she wasn’t sure.
And then I left.
That’s what I can’t really handle, the craziness. I’m sort of numb to it, but not fully. It’s just hard to be around. It’s not good for me. I don’t enjoy it. I don’t like the insanity. I don’t enjoy the toxic things they have in their house. I don’t like it.
But they’re happy in many ways. It’s there life. I can let them have their life, and I’m only in it a little bit. It’s not ideal but considering, it’s not bad.
My mom is safer than she was and I think she’ll get used to all the people and meet some new friends. She needs some clocks and calendars to keep track of things. She’ll get better food. We’ll figure it out. We have a ways to go, but it’s a good thing.
Amen.