Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Turkey on Rye

I feel like a slice of turkey on rye bread, a piece of a dumb bird stuck in the middle. Here I am, preparing to leave for California. This is not a pleasure trip mind you. I shall spend my waking hours attended to my mother's needs. Meanwhile, I leave my 14-year-old son and my husband behind. I must take leave from work. My plans are to be back the day before my son's 15th birthday. Also, I shall return to work the next night for a 12 hour shift.

My son is active in skating and music. I want to be present for him in these last years before he leaves the nest. There's bills to pay, laundry to do, housekeeping chores and the list goes on. On the other side of the continent, my mother languishes in a nursing home with a broken knee. I am responsible for her welfare and all that entails. There is no one else to share that burden as I am an only child.

Am I stressed? Yes. When I think of all the things I must accomplish I feel overwhelmed. I am pulled in so many directions. Yet, there are many people who are much worse off then myself. People who do not have jobs or are deathly ill. People who are starving. What do I have to complain about?

2 comments:

  1. My wife and I say that a lot to each other these days... it could be a lot worse. I hear stories of people in basically hopeless situations and wonder at how blessed we are, despite all the challenges. And health problems (especially ailing parents' problems) are without a doubt challenges.

    So, hang in there. The fact that you're turkey on rye instead of bologna on Wonder shows you still have some fight left in you! :)

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