In the words of Charles Dickens, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
“It was the best of times.” Being a mom to a 2 year old is the most awesome amazing thing in the world. She is learning new things every single day. She talks to us like a little adult it is a wonder just watching her learn and explore.
“It was the worst of times.” At the same time I am the caretaker of my wheelchair bound mother who has stage 4 lung cancer with Mets to the brain. She is on Hospice and lives with us. Actually in our living room since all the rooms are upstairs and she can’t get to them.
It is really hard some days managing both of those responsibilities and a full time job. Hubby is great with baby girl so the help he gives here is more than I think a lot of husbands would do. But a lot of times I feel like I am missing out on some of baby girls moments because I am taking care of mom.
That is when the guilt sets in. I feel guilty because mom is dying and even though I have a younger brother I am the only one who takes care of her. I feel guilty because I have to give so much time to mom that it takes away from baby girl. I feel guilty because sometimes I just want a normal life but I know what that would mean.
This morning I sat out on the front porch and it was so quiet with just the birds chirping and a warm breeze blowing, I imagined myself somewhere else on a vacation. It was only a few moments but it was refreshing. I guess I need to go sit out on the porch more often and clear my mind. Sometimes those few moments of peace are all I can get so I need to take advantage of them.