The blessing That is My Parents

Last week my self-loathing reached a high again. Again I was overwhelmed with everything there was to do and only me doing it. So, of course, the necessary changes around the house and yard come too slowly. I felt inadequate, insufficient, invalid. And angry. So angry! Until my rages were affecting my children. Until I was saying hateful, hurtful things. Until I couldn't function anymore. So, in tears, I called my Mom and asked if I could come to them. Was I worried I would treat them the same way? Of course. I also know they have thicker skin than my young adults.

So I've been at my parents' place. It hasn't all been sweetness and light. They bicker. Almost constantly. When I'm in a good place I can remind myself they've made this dynamic work for them for 60 years. When I'm not (and I'm not) I slide into my from-childhood attempts at peace-making. It's exhausting, unnecessary, and ineffective. Yesterday we were in my hometown. None of us has been there for about 25 years and we no longer know it well. It was easy to get turned around and wind up where you didn't wish to be. This frustrated my Dad, who got angry and loud; which in turn frustrated my Mom, who'd castigate him and give suggestions of how to get where we wanted to be in the same breath. I cringed in the back, occasionally putting in my opinion and wishing the noise would stop.

And texted Bill when I got in: "I should have just gone to hospital. There's no shelter from the storm here - there's just more storm."

Nonsense! Firstly, I never want to be in the psychiatric hospital again! Never. Secondly, since I've been an adult Mom and Dad have always been a safe haven for me. They just say, "Come ahead", and begrudge me nothing. I always leave with more than what I had when I arrived. They love me.

These are my parents. In two days, they'll celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. In a week is my Dad's 80th birthday. (He's three years older than Mom.) We're having an 80th birthday party for him on Saturday; kids, grandkids, and the great-grandbaby. Then a drop-in time for his sisters and brother, and his church family. 

I won't be here for Dad's actual birthday; I was here for Father's Day, though. I wanted to get a picture of us in our Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes (we looked good!), and Mom's blood sugar dropped. She's an insulin-dependent, type 2 diabetic who didn't eat quite enough for breakfast. In our concern for her our picture was forgotten. There will be other opportunities, God willing.

Always a safe space. Everyone should have one.

What I wore

 

Tuesday, May 28, I was able to get cortisone shots in my poor, painful SI joints. Something comfortable and loose was in order. This outfit, given to me by my Mom, feel like pajamas. It's a bit big, even more of a plus for this occasion.

Normally, nautical/tropical/seashore is not my thing. And this is a very matchy-matchy garment (probably bought from QVC, knowing my mother). Yet it's comfortable; it will work wel as a bathing suit cover-up both at the gym and at the beach.

Mom felt it was too tight on her legs, which is why I ended up with it. I get other outfits for the same reason. Why doesn't she dress the body she has, rather than the one she used to have? You get used to buying a certain size and it becomes your default: you still see yourself in the mirror that younger size: hope springs eternal. What ever the reason, me and my girls are the lucky recipients of her hand-me-downs, 

I wore this to my therapist's appointment May 30th. It's actually a sleeveless, mock-wrap dress (wrap dresses are usually quite flattering on me, though this picture doesn't really reveal that).

I didn't feel in a good place at all that day; I dressed up hoping to improve my mood. You know, when you feel pretty, you're a little more confident, a little more loquacious, more inclined to smile. That day it was necessary.

The dress was purchased at Willow Tree Thrift Store in Monticello. All the proceeds from there go to their Domestic Violence Shelter. I believe the sweater came from ThredUp; an online consignment store. Fabulous site!

I've made a conscious decision, in the pursuit of frugality and sustainability, to ONLY buy pre-loved clothes. Helps our wallet - helps our planet ... win-win!

My husband once saw our daughter Monica in a lightweight, beige, swing-y skirt. She had paired it with a sky-blue, slim-fit tee and a pair of wedge sandals. Bill fell in love with the concept of that outfit. We've both been looking for pieces for me to make that look for over a year now.

The sandals came from Willow Tree; the tank from Goodwill. I don't shop at Goodwill often...more of their money goes to their CEO than to anything else. Sad. Yet sometimes between appointments I'll slink in there. It's been hard, though, to find a light-weight skirt with a twirl. Finally, ThredUp posted this beauty. I snapped it up.

The 6th of June I had an appointment with my bariatric nutritionist in Decatur followed by a date with Bill. Hence, "his" outfit for the first time. He approved.

There have, of course, been other outings. I'm still getting used to being in front of a camera. I don't do well either taking pictures or having my picture taken...and that leaves my children with no pictures of me. I'll be gone someday and a picture is all they'll have. They may as well actually have one, yes? May you leave a memory when you're gone.