Sometimes a hefty dose of healthy frustration is good for us, right?
No doubt you can relate to a tidbit from a recent page in my journal . . . .
July 15, 2019
According to the calendar, I’m 65 today. I don’t know where or how to begin to wrap my head around that fact.
My mother-in-law suffered a stroke nearly five weeks ago that stopped us in our tracks and turned us in circles. I was finally on a writing retreat facing a couple of days away to write on the novel. I haven’t looked at it since the call.
She was in the hospital for six days, the rehab center for twenty days, now she’s been in the assisted living home for one week. Having sold her mobile in the past two weeks, I’ve nearly emptied it and both of her sheds.
I’ve seen my mom, my step-dad, and now my mother-in-law suddenly separated from their former lives and their stuff as the result of disease and the need for more directed care. In each case, I found myself sifting through every photo, squirreled away bread wrapper, birthday card, to-do list, and unused stamp. (more…)