Square Peg ● Round Hole

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My harsh reality is that leaving town seems to be harder and harder to do each time it is planned. But, this time, I was sure it was going to be different. My sister planned on coming in to stay with my mother for a few days and we had a caregiver in place as well. I thought the anxiety and panic that my mother feels would ease with this particular plan. I was completely wrong. Oh, and apparently my communication skills are circling the drain.

Yesterday, my sister texted me saying that our mother was stating that the caregiver would not be there today or Tuesday. I knew about Tuesday as she had a doctor’s appointment to address her lingering upper respiratory issue that had caused to her to miss the majority of last week. Thinking that my mother was orchestrating a mutiny, I texted her caregiver to find out the scoop. “Just wanted to confirm that Tuesday is the only day that you are taking off this week”. I felt that was pretty clear, concise and to the point. Her response was, “That is correct. I might not come back until after the doctor’s appointment”. I didn’t think much of that last sentence because I thought it meant that she might finish out Tuesday once her appointment was done. You see, I should have asked harder questions. I will blame it on vacation brain.

Fast forward to last night where I received a phone call from the agency asking if I was aware that the caregiver was taking off today as well. This is the moment, if I were a cartoon character, my head would explode. I indicated that I would need to speak to her caregiver to understand what is happening. I texted her again, and she says, “I told the agency on Friday that I wasn’t coming in Monday or Tuesday because your mother wants to make sure that I am healing from the upper respiratory issues I am having”. Jesus. Take. The Wheel. Is it me? Am I the problem? So, I text my sister with the unfortunate news since she will be the primary person in place. Just when I think my mother can’t twist a situation in her favor, she surprises me. Well played, Mom, well played.

So, I have decided that when I leave town again, I just won’t tell her. Then maybe there won’t be the drama that seems to find its way prior to me escaping or following me while I am decompressing. And maybe, I just wasn’t meant to communicate with other humans. It is possible that it just isn’t my gift. Guess I will have to up my game with my mother as she still has the ability to outsmart me.