Dreading another Monday (03/24/08)

It has been Monday for almost a week now. It started last Wednesday when I received a call saying that my mother's landlord was going to have the house appraised.

This threw the whole family into a tizzy because we didn't know if she was going to have to find another place to live or not.

Sunday I went to Mom's and cleaned. It ended up being spring cleaning and we traumatized her by throwing away her collections of empty containers. No amount of assurance that she could begin amassing more in a couple of days would mollify her.

My brother and I moved her chairs and various other furniture and discovered places that hadn't seen the underside of a vacuum cleaner since the last time we attacked her house. It is next to impossible for her to do this herself as pushing a walker and a vacuum cleaner at the same time isn't easy.

My other brother and his wife helped scour the kitchen floor. I guess swiping it with one of those new mops whenever I visit isn't enough to prevent the buildup of time.

By the end of the day the scrubbing was over and we were exhausted. My muscles were sore for the next three days. I used that as an excuse to put off spring-cleaning my own house.

I drove the hour and a half home Sunday then drove back the following morning to make sure the landlord and his appraiser didn't take advantage of her. The landlord arrived but the appraiser was a no show. After a tense couple of hours of phone calls someone finally arrived. The actual appraisal took about a half of an hour.

We then took her grocery shopping and made sure she had everything she needed before we left.

I always get upset when I realize that she needs so much help. It is a sign of advancing age on both our parts. I am a member of the sandwich generation. My mother and daughter are both independent women but both still need my help and I am often torn between them.

My mother gets to stay where she is for now and that is a relief. The thought of her having to move someday still looms ominously over my soul and flutters like bat wings inside my heart.

My daughter called and related her latest tale of woe. It only served to make me more irritated at her husband. I want to shake him to his senses but of course, shaking someone rarely does any good. Keeping my mouth shut isn't that easy, even if I am halfway across the country.

Granddaughter, Emma, hurt her foot while playing. It didn't stop her. She just scooted around on her bottom until the worst of the pain subsided. I wish I were that resilient. Doc said she was fine and to keep shoes on her for a day or two. There is no chance of that happening. She is of the age where it is not always possible to keep clothes on her, let alone shoes.

My mind has been on the women in my life and not on work and consequently I have made several stupid mistakes. My boss gets a little cranky with me but does not berate me nearly as much as I berate myself.

My husband has a birthday today and I will take him out to dinner. I will thank him for not adding even more stress to my life and for being there to listen to me rant and worry about things I cannot fix.

There has been some indication that the worst is over. The snowdrops and winter aconite are beginning to bloom. The pussy willow has a few soft catkins peeking out, just waiting to be stroked.

Nothing lasts forever, not even Monday. As Scarlet O'Hara once said, "After all, tomorrow is another day." I just hope it won't be another Monday. I've had enough of those for a while.[[In-content Ad]]