Square Peg ● Round Hole

HOME

ABOUT

BOOKS

BLOG

RESOURCES

CONTACT

The ability to communicate effectively certainly is a talent. I feel that writing is my best form of expressing my needs, but I suppose that would not be the most conducive process when dealing with those in my life. Friday was one of those days where I found myself frustrated and a little annoyed because I was growing impatient with people speaking to me. By noon, I was wishing for a vow of silence from everyone.

I was in a spiritual cocoon where I simply felt that life was grand. You know those moments where you are convinced that you are simply flowing and everything is falling in line. This was at 8 am. By 10 am, I wanted to flee to an island where no one lived. I received a call from the company that provides the caregivers for my mother. It seems her usual person was ill and they were sending a replacement that she has had before and liked. Because my mother is super selective, she has a “favorites” list. I called her to let her know and this is our conversation:

“Mom, Crystal is ill today and they are sending Doris.”

“I don’t want anyone and who is Doris?

“Doris is the older lady that you really enjoyed. She helped you when you fell.”

“Oh, I remember. I really don’t want anyone.”

“Well, you are going to have Doris today. “

“You just ruined my day.” And with that, she hung up.

I sat there for a minute and thought about how karma is certainly a bitch. Maybe I am being paid back for how big of a pain in the ass I was for many years. Then my phone rings again with her name on my screen. I took a big deep breath and answered.

“Hey, Mom. “

“I forgot to tell you this since you woke me up and ruined my day, but I need new smoke detectors. They are beeping.”

“Oh, you just need new batteries. Just have Doris do that when she gets there.”

“No, I need new smoke detectors. Your father bought new ones every time.”

“Mom, I will have Brian come over and check them, but I believe that you only need batteries.”

This went on for a while until she expressed her frustration with me again and told me I am “ruining her life”. I think I said that phrase to her many times as a teenager, so I figured it was payback.

Fifteen minutes later, my spouse’s phone rings and it is her. They have the same conversation only this time, Doris was there and had taken out the batteries. However, Mom told my husband that she physically ripped them from the walls before Doris got there. So, Brian, who has more patience than me, informed her that he would come over this weekend and survey the situation.

While the conversation made my eyes roll and ripped me of my limited supply of patience, I know that this isn’t really my mother. She wasn’t always this way. I see glimpses of the woman she used to be. But, as we progress in the aging process, those moments are fleeting. She is still my teacher, but in a very different capacity.