In the waiting room…while mom has surgery. Two hours of prep time before they wheeled her in. We left the house at 5am… So tired…. She held my hand just before they took her and she had one tear on her cheek. She is convinced she isn’t coming home. Tell the kids I love them… Only sell my jewelry if you need to; its your insurance policy… I wish I could be here for you. Wishing this ride wasn’t so long. I hate these conversations.
My eyes want to close. Hard to keep from crying. I don’t want to get old. Fighting back tears as I think of dying alone.
I think I have been a good daughter. Patient. Understanding in spite of wanting to bite through my tongue some days to avoid arguing. 17 years of this. No medals though one was certainly earned.
No work today. Random thoughts. Shopping list. How to afford holiday gifts…. What in the world do I buy for GF? No phone service here. We are expected to sit here for hours with no phone service…We Need dog food…. And groceries. Must do laundry before actual nakedness occurs. So tired. Would rather be at work. Hate hospitals. I fell asleep on the couch in the waiting room. Hours later, it’s done. The dr calls me and it went well. No more planning or apologizing. Just time to heal…heal the wound and time to forgive myself for all the thoughts I thought.
Does it mean I love her any less because I am tired of being a care giver or that I want some time to be a single adult before I need my own kids to care for me, as I cared for her? Time to help mom get better and temporarily put myself aside, yet once again.