Of Beautiful Brides and Broken Mothers

Life got pretty crazy around here last week. I am hoping to catch up on a couple of blog posts I wanted to write, but we will see what my chaos level is by the end of the week. Last week was a big mishmash of joy and frustration. My BFF got married this weekend and that has kept me very busy, but very happy.

On a similar note, congratulations to all the same sex couple in New York state who can now make themselves as stressed out, and crazy, and ridiculously happy at their own weddings as the one we just had up here.

I knew the week was going to be busy, but I didn’t expect the week’s other complication – my mother broke her ankle while my dad was out of town. This part has not been fun. If you have been reading this blog for a while you know that things between my mother and I are loving, but strained. Neither one of us is really real around the other. Since both of my sisters live in the Lower 48, I am the only child around to help her. Mom is a very smart woman who is very good at many things – accepting help and feeling powerless are not among them. Her frustration manifests as irrational stubbornness. I believe this week is referred to as “character building.”

One afternoon I was at her house, vacuuming for her and helping her to make her home a little more wheelchair-friendly and it struck me that I was looking at my future. There I was, vacuuming the same hall where I had done so many times growing up and I realized that dealing with her while she deals with her diminishing physical capability is around the corner. My sisters and their kids all live a plane-ride away and my father has serious health problems. Mom is going to get older and angry at her aging, and I will be taking care of her. This future scares the shit out of me.

My most awesome and wonderful Husband S deserves a special note of appreciation. He dealt with a nervous bride, a cranky mother-in-law, his visiting mother, and me while I was stressed out with all of them. He never complained or batted an eye. He is my rock and I don’t know what I would do without his support.