.Thank god/dess that I had an appointment with Marilyn today -- she is an amazing touchstone and sanity check for me -- more than she will ever ever know.
We talked about me (of course ), and a lot about dealing with an aging parent that is without a life-mate. I'm talking about my Mom, Geraldine Elinor Gillman, in particular. I am so at a loss as to what is the best thing to do for my Mom as she struggles into this world solo.
Lately, she's been depressed -- after 4 years, I think that she is finally emerging from the "anger stage" of grief into the realization that he's really not here (although there is some residual anger ). It's so hard. Can you imagine being married to someone for almost 51 years -- living with the same person for that long, sharing the same bed, the same space?
They had an unspoken dance and rhythm worked out to such a finely tuned harmony, that there was rarely a misstep, or mishap -- Fred & Ginger at their best!
Some practical examples -- Mom would go upstairs to watch TV while Dad was downstairs doing the bills -- or Mom would be downstairs working on her Envelopes, while Dad worked the yard or washing the car.
Yet the piece de resistance, was the creative dance of watching the Mariners play -- you see Mom liked to turn the TV off if it got unbearable for her -- if the M's were doing really really badly -- but Dad tenaciously hung in there -- shouting "Oh No!" or "Come on!!!"...and since Dad had a hearing problem, his TV was always loud enough that if Mom chose to, she could aurally tune in -- or turn the set on, or go sit with my Dad on the leather couch downstairs.
Do you see how magical that was? And my Mom thought Dad didn't know how to dance ;-).
But, the balance, the perfection they achieved is all out of whack with my Dad gone. Their dance was not only a partnership, but one that included how they related to their kids, (me and Jim), their grandkids, their extended family, and their friends -- their roles were subtly defined, and on some primal level, we all understood them, and our relationships with Mom and Dad evolved accordingly.
But Mom is alone now.
And, in the best of times, I am still unable to really help fill that emptiness; those needs she has. Our dance has always been different than the one with her and Dad; or her, me & Dad...so I think I'm failing her.
It's so hard to try to manage my life, let alone another person's. I'm treading water here -- sometimes being dragged under, other times, managing to float -- especially when Gordy is really *here* for me in that "dancing" kind of way.
Mom has finally started to feel the symptoms of her age to boot -- this veritable youthful, vivacious, beautiful woman, has finally lost her "dorian grey" painting -- it's starting to catch up to her -- and to add irony to this, she's finally feeling what I've been dealing with for quite some time; the same symptoms that I have from FMS -- "dain bramage", exhaustion, isolation, depression, physical pain, memory problems, denial, etc. -- one's life tasks seemingly start to take on epic proportions, mourning what one lost, trying to learn to live with the "new" self "as is". Go figure -- we're finally "peers".
So, here's my promise to you Mom:
Mom, since you can't know how inadequate I feel, and how sorry I am that I can't be what you need, I promise you that I will continue to try my best and more, and to try to keep it together by talking with Marilyn for reality checks, but the truth is, I can only do what I really can do.
I love you more than you'll ever believe or know. I need you too. Please don't go yet.
[be safe -- come home soon...]
