Are We Entitled To Comfort In Our Old Age?

It is never a good sign when the landline rings before dawn. A phone call out of time brings with it the knowledge that it won’t convey good news as all of your loved ones are in the same time zone as you.

The 5am phone call started my day.

Within the hour I was frantically calling all manner of people trying to find out where they had taken my elderly mother. Information withheld because I could be any maniac (thanks to all the stalkers out there). I finally managed to track her down in the emergency room of the local hospital.

Hate this place for a whole lot of reasons, none of which have to do with illness, bodily parts or fluids. Mostly because it symbolises the system in all of its glory, loss of control and loss of time. This is not a stab at Australia’s hospitals or their staff. On a comparative world scale we have little to complain about. It is just the nature of hospitals. Inside those walls, time seems to slow and miscommunication and haphazardness seem to increase.

The good news is mum is physically fine for her age.

The bad news is that the past couple of years, loss of confidence and living in the comfort zone have taken their toll on her quality of life.

As I sat in the emergency ward killing time with the person who birthed me, shooting the breeze and making stupid small talk, inside my soul was screaming.

The notion of “use it or lose it” becomes far more obvious in old age.

And that is what has happened for my mother. She has lost much of her dexterity, mobility and strength. This is to be expected in old age. However in this case, the loss has been accelerated and magnified by a loss of confidence, motivation and movement generally.

It kills me, it really does. Not the physical loss per se, but my mother’s desire to stay in her comfort zone. This from the person who taught me to fight, strive, push and look beyond my front fence. This from the person who used to let nothing stop her, who used to let nothing stop my father and who never said “I can’t”.

My soul was screaming because I can see that comfort and safety are now her priority.

I want to yell “What about living and a life, mum?”

“Remember when there was a world beyond your front fence?”

“Remember when I was a little girl you told me I can, if I just tried a little more?”

I constantly grapple with her perceived surrender. And then feel guilty because hasn’t she earned the right to seek comfort in her old age?

I know that those in old age who continue fighting and striving tend to live longer.

But is longevity the ultimate or even a legitimate goal in your eighties? Or is comfort the highest form of achievement?

It’s a personal choice in which I have no say. It’s a personal choice that I have to accept.

Maybe it’s time to let it be. Maybe at this age, the world to the front fence is enough.

Maybe it’s time for me to get comfortable with my mother’s comfort. Maybe that would be the ultimate sign of daughterly love.

And they say parenting is hard…

Today I Give Myself Permission To Go With The Flow #atozchallenge

Well, I’m back for another week of A to Z Challenge posts.

This week is brought to you by the letters G to L and by the numbers 7 to 12 and I could tell you how to get to Sesame Street, but I left my GPS in my other bag.

Yesterday was a blog free day – one of only four in April and so in keeping with my new-found permission, I decided to just hang and go with the flow. This ended up in me cutting the pad of my left index finger with a kitchen knife in trying to tame a piece of pork shoulder. So far it’s pork shoulder – 1, Judy – 0 and all I’m going to say is I’m looking forward to the rematch. What this means though is that my key board skills are currently compromised. Do you know how essential the index finger on your left hand is to touch typing? Even if you’re more than a two finger typist? So every time I type the letters “r”, “t”,”c”, “d”, and “v”, the pork shoulder comes back to trumpet its victory. And whilst my writing skills are almost legendary, I have yet to master the art of writing a blog post without the letters “r” and “t” and “d”. I’m thinking “c” and “v” are probably more dispensable, but the Challenge is not the time to prove that theory. And just to rub salt into the wound, guess what came next after cutting my finger. That’s right, I had to rub salt into the pork shoulder and you can guess where some of the salt ended up. It seems my pain impulses are in perfect working order, seriously good to know! Anyway, now that I have set the scene for the week of blogging ahead with the appropriate degree of pathos, never let it be said that the show hasn’t gone on.

Yes, I could have pre-programmed my Challenge posts, but I didn’t because there is some part of me that loves the thrill of winging it and of being flexible about writing what I feel like on the day. The irony is also not lost on me for the topic of this post….. for there it is, a perfect example of going with the flow.

Control, what an illusion? No really, it is. And it only took me forty plus years to realise. Clearly, I’m a slow study. Over recent years, I have become acutely aware of what I can’t control and have come to accept that that’s the case.

The notion of objective fairness used to loom large in my life. My expectations of certain outcomes as a result of other people acting fairly or life treating me fairly were keeping me hostage. Mind you, I expected no less of myself (and I still don’t), but then it occurred to me that the only one who was interested in my expectations was me and the only one who suffered when my own expectations were not met, was me. There was no lightening bolt from the heavens on the person or circumstance that didn’t exhibit the appropriate degree of fairness. They carried on as if nothing had happened, because in their reality nothing had!

How many times have you heard or said the following expressions?

He/She should have done this

I can’t believe he/she didn’t/did do that

She/he should have realized X and therefore done/said Y

This is the language of control and I’m not going to lie, I used to say these quite a bit.

The energy I spent in trying to determine outcomes was huge. The fact is, I can’t. Everyone has freedom of choice as to how they respond to external stimuli. YOU have freedom of choice as to how you respond to external stimuli. That’s the only thing we can control, our response and our thoughts and actions. The rest is up for grabs.

Every day brings new stimuli and situations, particularly at this midlife stage. More rapid change is now inevitable and the longer we hold on to what WAS, we cannot enjoy what IS and nor can we smooth over the necessary transitions. Flexibility and patience are needed to locate those doors that are now opening. Your flow will determine which ones you open and enter.