A song from Pink Floyd The Wall (1979). That was the year our son was born and it all seems such a long time ago, another world, another lifetime. Even photographs of us then look like different people, it’s uncanny and a bit spooky. Did we really change so much?
I have come to the conclusion that as we grow older our lives divide and alter. The years the children were small passed in a blur as we were so busy but now I find myself wishing the time away which was something I vowed never to do. When I woke up to my 50th birthday I was struck by the realisation that I had probably lived longer than I had left. In the beginning the first 7 years of retirement were a joy but that changed with the arrival of my mother. It was not supposed to be like this and now 21 years on from that turning 50 revelation I need to look carefully at everything and find a way of coping with the frustration of having no freedom, no peace of mind, no personal space and little relief from this relentless misery that life is becoming. If I don’t sort out my weight problem I doubt I will live to 99 years of age so I need to make some life changing decisions soon.
It is impossible to talk to my mother to try and discuss a situation, she doesn’t seem to know how to listen, gets everything wrong and talks over us. She will never admit she is wrong and spends her time asking inane questions about nothing relevant. If she doesn’t know something she makes up something to fill the space. She has become self centred, rude and graceless with us but will gush embarrassingly over visitors, trying to play the dear sweet little old lady. This is so hypocritical that we feel revolted by the charade. I keep making a mental note to not become like this but maybe if we were to live to such a grand age we would also be the same.
It would be easier if my mother was not so aggressive and defensive. Her presence is that of a spectre and both my husband and I are becoming resentful of this rather unpleasant person living in our home. Her ‘I know’ attitude is a pain especially when she blatantly doesn’t know.
If anybody out there has any viable solutions I would love to hear them.
Having had one good day and then one bad day since my last post I decided my new mantra must be to try harder despite feelings of frustration and at times anger. Emotionally life with a 99 year old is like riding a roller coaster. It was apparently suggested, not to me I may add, that my lovely garden studio could be an ironing room with the board left up permanently. My mother bought me this lovely shed some years ago as a present and before she came to live with us I had time to paint, a much loved hobby but since her arrival and the demands made upon us I haven’t had the time to make use of my special space. Unfortunately the shrinking of our horizons to those of hers over the three years have taken their toll and I feel little inclination to even try now. My husband struggles as well to find enthusiasm to do things. We have discussed this and recognise that the problem is ours but we are unable to find a working solution at the moment. If my mother even suggested we go out on our own it might help but all we get is the royal ‘we’ and there is no suggestion or thought that we might like to go out alone. When we have said we are going out on our own (twice in three years) we are made to feel guilty which rather takes the edge of any enjoyment. I know we must stop being wimps about this but we also can’t just go out now for any length of time without leaving someone with her, any semblance of common sense seems to have flown out the window. Although still fairly mobile she is partially sighted, deaf and becoming increasingly frail. My mother, at 99 years of age, will not accept her limitations which is admirable in some ways but can result in real danger in other ways.
Shrinking Horizons 