Crazy as a Loom

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Just the way it is.

Snow, then rain.
But I love rain.  Always have, ever since I was a kid.
Unfortunately, rain this time of year, on top of all this snow, means flooding.
I don't wish that on anyone.

When I filled the bird feeders, I threw some on the ground for the mourning doves.

Today I worked on an order.  I searched out some fabrics, then played with them at the loom.

Sydney was hard at work, holding down the rug while I tied fringe.
Gotta love that girl.

Here is the finished rug.  I really like it, and I am hoping that the customer does, too.

Kizzy, the chief inspector, spent some time checking it out.

Yup, he likes it.

Remember I told you last night I was going in the hot tub?  Well, I did, about 10:30, planning to go to bed when I got out.
I was sitting back in the steaming hot water, letting the jets beat on my back, eyes closed.  It was dark, except for the street light reflecting off the snow, when I thought I saw someone's shadow through the atrium door.  Just as I realized it was my mother, she opened the door, stuck her head out, and yelled,
"I thought you would want to know that my stove just went out again."
Yes, oh yes, I want to know.  And I want to know right this minute, while I am out in the hot tub, trying to relax.  Yes, I want to know.
Is this where I say Whiskey Tango Foxtrot???  :)

I realized that this is how my daughter feels, as a single mother of two, trying to do it all, trying to be everything to everybody.  There is hardly any place where you can go.  You are on duty, all the time.
I get it.
I also realize that my mother is old, and that I am lucky to have her here still.  The fact is though, that she is childlike and demanding.  She is high maintenance, and sometimes she wears me right out.

I tell myself to take a deep breath, let it go, relax.  I try, every day.
The hardest part is that some days I try to remember what my mother used to be like, before she got like this.  And I can't get a clear picture.  I only can see her the way she is now, more my child than my mother.
When, I wonder, did this happen?


TexWisGirl said...

Awww. Sadly this happens to too many families now. May you have better hot tub moments in the future...

Hilary said...

Sigh.. that role reversal. We always hope that it won't happen with us when we get there.

Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot.. too funny. I just read that the other day on that site which shows funny real estate offerings (It's Lovely, I'll Take It). It made me laugh then, and even more so to read it here. Lima Oscar Lima. ;)

claudia said...

My daughter and I are reversing roles soon too. Although our role change has been a planned one. She will work and pay the bills while I work and tuck as much as I can away for that time when I want to retire.
We'll see how this works out. It means I am giving up my control, and everyone here knows what a control freak I am.
Hang in there Hilary. You are a wonderful person for taking care of your mom. Many daughters wouldn't do it.

Tammie said...

I so understand. You put it so well.

Sophie Mcfadden said...

I think most mothers are like that. Mom also is so child-like; it seems that life hasn't brought her to maturity. Maybe it is because of the time gap. Their time is so different and our time is so advanced. Do you get what I mean? But anyway, I love that rug that you've made from your weaving looms and I think the client will love it. It is perfectly weaved.

deborah said...

Blessings for taking such loving care of your mom.
Love the rug and your team of inspectors!

Sharon said...

At least your mother is able to live with you and not in assisted living, which is where my mom ended up. I hated it, she hated it but she required an attendant and I had to work. I was constantly trying to find the time to see her. It's one of the worst memories in my life.

Michelle (typical libra) said...

That rug is gorgeous - here is a rug question for you. How do you keep the rugs from slipping on the hardwood floor? I will (I KNOW) inevitably step on the rug and slip ass over teakettle as my nana would say.

spindrift,maine said...

Boy do I get what you are talking about. Just what I was trying to say in my earlier post, Solitude. So many conflicting feelings--regret, guilt, remembering better times, frustration, anger; all competing with the knowledge that at the end of the day acceptance is what will get you through. I have been counseling many folks in this dilemma lately--the same one I am in--and I really do believe that one of the ways we can live in acceptance is to allow ourselves time once in awhile to complain or feel sad or just run away for awhile--not as a way of life, but for a certain kind of 'venting' of normal, understandable emotion. peace to you, hilary.

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