That's what I'm going for. I was talking to my therapist yesterday about all the anxiety I have from the uncertainty of work and care for my mom. I won't into details but who wouldn't be worried when it comes to their livelihood and the care of an elderly parent with a host of serious medical issues? I feel on edge, not quite drowning but certainly overwhelmed. It affects my sleep and perhaps it's easier to call it anxiety than depression. I don't know.
So we talked for a bit about this constant dread because it was affecting how I felt about life and not celebrating or enjoying the good moments. Because it felt that impending doom was around the corner. Dark and dramatic, perhaps, but we're still dealing with grief remember? She suggested focusing on gratitude, worrying that it might seem trivial or condescending when she said it but I assured her that I was on board. That I had done it before but, for whatever reason, I strayed away from it and wrote down all my worries. And that's probably why I didn't look forward to journaling and avoided it for days. Then weeks. Then months.
What am I grateful for today? I will highlight my son, The Bean. A friend offered to help pack up my mom's room at her old facility when I found it was abruptly closing. This is a dear friend who is typically reliable. Well, she had to cancel last minute for a not-so-great reason (though I value her telling me the truth) and I had already told staff that I would be coming so would have felt bad for cancelling. They had to be mildly inconvenienced to let me in so I felt obligated to follow through. I was already feeling a sort of way with having to do this chore, feeling guilty that I hadn't seen my mom in a few days and now feeling put out that a friend cancelled. I asked Bean if he would come with me. I could tell he was not excited, as he had chores to do specifically on Wednesday and he was also hungry. But he looked at how disappointed I was in being cancelled on and with almost no hesitation (it was probably a second or two), Bean said he would help me. I told him thanks, eat a snack while I picked up his sister, and be ready to go in 10 minutes.
My boy is 11 years old and very much the baby of the family. Look, I was the baby of the family so I know the role well. Unlike me at his age, though, he has more chores and more expectations put upon him in terms of helping around the house. So we drive to my mom's former facility, dark and cold outside, and without any complaints he packs as efficiently and neatly as he can. And by golly, he did a solid job. It wasn't like having another adult with me but it was far better than me doing it by myself. He was such a sport about it and I was the one to call it quits for us rather than him asking if we could stop. I had promised him McDonalds on the way home (a rare treat) and gave him the $10 we found in one of my mom's jacket pockets.
I'm grateful to have a son who chose to help his mama out even though he was tired from school, hungry, and had a schedule his brain had already committed to (like my daughter and me, we like to know and stick to a schedule, especially when it comes to chores. Hi, I'm the tree, meet my apple.) My kids are their own personalities even though my husband and I see flickers of us in them. And Bean is someone who is the baby of the family, doesn't like to be inconvenienced, and won't necessarily be a martyr - again, also the baby of the family and totally get it. And yet ... he is very loving and giving, particularly when he thinks someone needs help and he can do it. I don't think I give him enough credit for this. So today I am very grateful for my baby boy.
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