Square Peg ● Round Hole







Let me be perfectly honest when I say that I dreaded yesterday. I woke up convinced that the situation with my mother was hopeless. That I was preparing for the battle of the century with my 88-year old madre. The agency was sending a woman over who would be with her the rest of the week. We had not spoken since the ordeal with her firing her former caregiver because her car was dirty. Still wrapping my head around that one. Anyway, I called my mother to inform her that I would be over to greet the substitute caregiver, and to also tell her that we would be going to the doctor to check for a UTI. While she seemed compliant for most of our conversation, she did inquire as to whether or not I had looked inside her former caregiver’s car. She was desperate to justify her actions. Sigh. It is like being on a hamster wheel.

As I headed over to my mother’s house, I prayed that I wouldn’t say anything or do anything that would require an apology or the police. I wondered if I should have brought some holy water and a cross, you know, just in case. I greeted her with a hug and the comment, “You’re killing me, Smalls”. Then she says, “Her car was really dirty. I just can’t ride around in that. If we had an accident, I could be hurt. Doesn’t she care about her children?” Thank God, the new caregiver pulled up because I was about to lose my ever-loving shit.

The moment I introduced myself to the woman who was about to walk into the lion’s den, I felt a sense of peace. Her vibe was warm and friendly. She didn’t run screaming and her car was clean. Ding, ding, ding….we have a winner. My mother LOVES her. When I left, they were chatting like old friends. The agency called me an hour later confirming that she will be the ongoing caregiver. Suddenly, my hopelessness turned into a party complete with confetti and a mariachi band.

I can only imagine that God is shaking his head at my belief that there would not be a good outcome for this situation. Yes, I get it. He is a literal miracle worker. I suppose I should get him a gift for working this out. Maybe a gift certificate to Denny’s because everyone loves a good “grand slam” or maybe I could just get the hell out of the way so he can do his job. Friends, fingers crossed that Evelyn, our angel delivered to care for my mother, keeps her car clean and is a permanent fixture.