Nothing has evolved my understanding and compassion for my parents more than being a parent. In every phase of parenting I find new a comprehension and loads of compassion for who my parents are, and what it's like to be them at each phase of life because I'm living it a few steps behind them. Lately it's particularly raw for me as I find my way through being the ill parent of busy adult children who have successful lives and more to think about than me. I sit here tired, semi-reeling in my recent diagnosis and with limited energy, missing my kids and wondering if they miss me even a micron as much I miss them. I have time now to feel what my parents must feel and think when I haven't touched base for weeks. I feel a bit lost, in this new terrain of sickness, not having the energy, funds or furniture to invite them all over and fill their tummies and my heart with theme sights and sounds of them. That is what I would do if I could. I'd make a huge meal and we'd eat and talk and laugh and I would fall, exhausted and happy, into bed.
Life has kept me busy as far back as I can remember and I was a willing participant. As a young adult I filled every moment with obligations and every corner of my home with babies, resulting in 25 years of appointments and carpools and every moment of my day filled some emotion on the spectrum between adoration and exhaustion. Nothing swells my heart like the cherub cheeks and unique lilt of a toddler, rocking babies and herding them as they grew. Just when I couldn't imagine loving them any more, I do. I am in my most natural element with those four fated beings in my presence. Sure, I worked outside the home, but it never filled me like bath time and bedtime and getting everyone where they wanted to be. Work was something I did to feed and clothe my favorite pastimes. There is a tangible shift that happens as our kids approach and pass us in stature. As sure as their feet grow, their desire to spend time with us dwindles in reverse proportion. True confession; I was usually ready for them to go to college. They brought me just beyond every limit I thought I had and I needed a breather, but honestly so did they. We all played our parts the best we could and were ready for whatever the next steps would be.
I had this idea of how it would be, those visits home from college, the Christmas dinners and celebrations of milestones. My home would be a gathering place. I would ease into the grandma role as first tier babysitter, advice giver and call-in-a-pinch rescuer of any crisis. I hadn't anticipated losing my almost paid for home, my safety net savings and having to live pay check to paycheck to pay rent and keep the lights on, nor the way work would drain my energy as the years passed.
What a juxtaposition to have fallen ill due to Lyme disease and toxic mold and prevented (by doctor's orders) from being anywhere but my home to prevent relapse. I have a lot of time to think and many things are coming into focus. Ever since becoming a grandma all I've wanted to be "that grandma" that is available to help my kids with babysitting and be active and healthy enough to keep up with those little boy legs. But my job took most of my time and energy and I would squeeze time in with them as I could. I would make time as I had energy. Those twinkly-eyed, quick-witted boys are my new addiction and I can't get enough time with them. Now I find myself with a serious diagnosis and very limited energy, but tons of time. With only so much my body will let me do in a day. I again struggle to find a way to be the grandma and daughter I want to be. It's unctharted territory for all of us, my kids, myself and my parents. But two things I know. I will take the time to call and visit my parents more because I understand how much it means, and my first priority with my time is my four kiddos and those three boys too young to comprehend the immeasurable value they have to me.
