Sunday, June 23, 2013
I look at the week that lies before me, as I routinely do on Sunday mornings. I see it empty of all things personal and work-related. Even the mom-tasks that once filled the spaces to overflow are gone. You see, this was the week that mom's furniture and personal belongings were to be moved to her new apartment in a beautiful assisted living community near to me. This was the week that I would have had her room set up, a new recliner delivered, the week I would have personally handled all the finishing touches of her new home, the week she would have moved in.
But—hey, things change. And that is at it should be.
Rita claimed to dislike change, and yet she was a master of facilitating it. Right up to the end.
On Monday I had confirmed all that needed confirmation for her assisted living apartment and the care she would need. I's were dotted, t's were crossed, checks signed and handed over. I even saw the view from her windows and thought how she would like it, how it might remind her of her long-time home in Delaware. Early Wednesday morning I firmed up all the moving arrangements and was getting ready to complete the plans for a comfy medical transport for her … when I got the call.
Plans were cancelled and new plans put in their place. I smiled as I whispered to myself, "another exercise in futility." I laughed as I recalled countless times she asked me to do this-r-that for her, only to to have her undo my efforts through changing her mind or saying, "I'll do it myself."
She was one independent lady. Fiercely so. Right up to the end.
I have to admit that I always admired her independent spirit, even when it frustrated me beyond reason. She was a woman of principle, even when the principles for which she fought didn't fit the reality of the situation. Even when her principles did not mirror my own. She was tenacious. So much so that, on occasion, she would wear one down to give in, toss aside protocol, defy rules in order to bend reality to meet her principles, her reality. This behavior often felt like wasted effort to me, especially as she got older, but ~ bless her willful little heart ~ she rarely gave up. Right up to the end.
Ya gotta admire that.
And I have to admit that there's a good bit of this tenacity in me too. I hope it lasts. Right up to the end.