Grace and Dignity
There is a blog I read written by a woman who could not be more different than me if we tried. Opposite ends of the country. She works from home, is a former drug abuser and alcoholic (personally she comes across to me as a dry drunk, but who knows if that's accurate?), grifter, etc. Anyway, her mother recently lived with her for the better part of a year, through some medical difficulties. This week, the mother moved out.
Throughout this experience, the blogger wrote about her difficulties with her mother. Including feeling like she couldn't have sex with her husband because of her mother being in the house. Which I didn't really understand since she made it clear the bedrooms are on a separate floor upstairs and the mother was living in the basement. And since the mother went places during the day while both this woman and her husband ... well he doesn't work, but they're both home during the day. They could have
The most recent blog post is about the relief felt now that the mother is out of the house. Like many (all?) of the blog posts mentioning the mother, it's painful to read how much she hated having her mother there, and equally painful to read how relieved and happy she is to have her mother finally gone. It's cruel to the mother. It's sort of cruel to all the people whose mothers have died and would put up with any inconveniences to have a bit more time with their beloved relatives.
I didn't realize this until recently, but here is what happened in my house between December 1994 and August of 1995.
- My grandmother died unexpectedly.
- I spectacularly failed out of college and had to move home.
- Golden Boy moved home after being away for four years.
- My grandfather, devastated by my grandmother's death, moved in with our family.
- I fell ill, with difficult symptoms that included passing out, unexplained rashes and screaming in pain, then needing to be taken for medical tests numerous times via backboard and ambulance.
- My father was working at a job almost two hours away from home (each way).
For Father's Day my parents solved the garlic problem by gifting my grandpa with garlic pills. My grandpa, despite being quite good to me, always viewed and treated my father like an evil son-in-law. I have never once heard my father say anything cruel about my grandfather. As frustrated as both my parents got with my grandfather, even while dealing with one sick kid and one boomerang kid, they never would have done what this woman does had blogs existed then.