A holding pattern, of sorts. Resting up the body after the last two weeks. The heat took a toll on all of us. Aches, cuts, stings, raspy throats from carelessly inhaling fumes from a brew of gardening chemicals and something else.
You commenting smarty pants. You have given me pause to better strategize the purpose for all this and the worth. In short, I paused to think and lost my momentum. It was part personal challenge to clean up the yard for the neighbors. It was part desire to please my aunt and provide her with a safer environment. It was to forestall any social worker intervention by having a leg up on the mess.
Yes, given the strain on mind and body, one should not fly by the seat of the pants on such an endeavor. Given my aunt’s insanely intense desire to go home, I saw the crack in the door open far enough to glimpse a potential for positive change….for her.
I also watched a Hoarding show the other night. I have, heretofore, scrupulously avoided such shows, particularly the bizarrely filthy ones. Why? My mom. She lived in such a world. Pains me to watch it. Pained me to slog through her hoarding world. My aunt is not quite as dirty as my mom’s world was, nor as much as the ones I watched the other night.
So, just an incline in the road right now. I have spent the better part of 30 months dealing with my mom’s hoarding yard, her hospice, my aunt’s near death experience, my mom’s death, my mom’s hoarding home, my aunt’s care and gaining trust and love, my aunt’s congestive heart failure this past Winter, her fall and broken bones, her removal to an adult care facility, and now this expedited hoarding cleanup.
What has crept into my mind, as this Summer slips by, is I have rarely done anything for me or my family in two and a half years. I love to fly fish (see SwittersB & Fly Fishing) yet my mistress in unfulfilled. I am not feeling sorry for myself. Just a bit edgy over all this. Also, and don’t get this wrong, once one gets into their 60’s and also deals with vanishing elders, there is a sense of the clock is ticking. Life is moving right along. What the hell am I still working for? Why am I working all day (regular job) and doing all this other stuff for two undisciplined, obsessed women? What the hell about me and those that sacrifice on my behalf?
There, my pity party is over. I am just damn tired and into a not very patient mindset about stuff. Ah yes. It is not my stuff. Easy to overlook that as you fight the good fight. It is NOT my stuff. It is my sense of duty to protect and keep safe. For now, most of that stuff will be pushed, stacked, crammed and restrained into some smothered space.
Sorry to vent…. my work is crazy busy of late. This hoarding mess cleanup really intensified. Your comments, although very kind and supportive, did give me pause re why the hell am I doing this and putting the little rearranging dynamo back into the catnip larder?
Hell if I know. Frankly, I am more on auto pilot than I realized. I got there by not thinking so much and just getting things done. Too complicated to sort all this out. Just do it. Well, when your ass starts dragging and you finally sit down to catch your breath, be prepared if suddenly you ask “What the hell am I doing?” I know my aunt has asked plenty of times “How did I ever get myself into this mess?” I could ask that as well….but, I won’t.
Oh…now my picture is gone from sight. Devilishly clever or just moving stuff here and there, even in her ‘temporary’ home.