Drinking Beer with Mom
Yesterday, I visited my mom at her senior living community. We drank some alcohol-free beer, talked, cried, and had a good time together.
That isn’t something I take for granted. If you had asked me two months ago whether I would ever enjoy spending time with her again, I would have said no.
After my dad died, she slowly let herself go. No exercise, no doctor visits, increasing isolation, and several mental breakdowns. It all eventually ended with a stay in the emergency room because of everything she had done, or failed to do, to her body.
After two weeks in the ER, she was transferred to a geriatric ward. From then on, things slowly started to improve. She was finally put on the right medication, received an oxygen device, and learned to walk with a walker, something we had been asking her to do for years.
Now she’s living just around the corner in a place where she’s in good hands. My mind and body are slowly learning that I no longer have to live with the constant fear of finding her unconscious, or worse. I can visit her because I want to, not because I have to.
Her grandchildren can finally visit her again and play board games with her.
For the first time in years, our relationship is becoming healthy again. And little by little, I feel like I’m getting my mom back.
She’s 80+ now, and she proves that it’s never too late to get your shit together.
Wow. Writing this down feels good. At the same time, it feels a bit weird to share something this personal on the blog.
Then again, maybe this helps someone in a similar situation. Or maybe you can relate because you’ve been through something similar yourself.