Yesterday and the day before were kinda ugly. Saturday started OK. I got over to the house to work on Lauren's room. I started doing my work, but after a minute I realized I needed to go to the store for something. The bike died on the way.
Trying to explain why the bike was not working is never an easy task. They do not accept it is not working and need details that are beyond my ability to explain. When I get into the technical stuff they get lost, maybe because I am not really sure what the real issue is. LOL.
I went back to work on the basement. I accomplished a good bit of work down there. Yey! But the bike was still disabled.
On Sunday morning I went back to the bike to get it going. I did a little research on the problem and felt confidant. Confidence like arrogance, in this case anyhow, is a false sense if security.
The issues were more then a street side fix could deal with, so I began to make arrangements to get the bike to the house. It was time to get back to work on the basement. Five hours later I was tired and ready to go home. However, I needed to sit with the 'rents and talk a minute. Or I thought I should.
We talked about the project. Then the issue of what to do about the bike came up.
I will not quote the conversation here, but suffice it to say that I explained the situation clearly and what steps I planned to remedy it...Three times.
After the fourth time I explained what was going to happen, I got the question, "Who is your daughters' boy friend?" I had hoped he could help me to move the bike to a safe place.
I was too tired to suppress my frustration. I explained, one more time, the details of the problem and what I planned to do about it. Unfortunately my frustration came through and everyone on the room felt it.
Now I feel really badly about my outburst.
On the way home that night, I tried to deconstruct my feelings as inadequacy. Boy are there so many.
I love my mother and have always admired her intelligence and her focus. To see her age is difficult. Yet perhaps what I am seeing is the culmination of her lifelong tendency to question everything.
She has always asked insightful questions, most of the time they could lead to a way of seeing an issue from a different point of view. Now however, her need to look out side-of-the box was getting in the way of her life.
More importantly though, was my reaction to her need for detail. Even though I had given all of the data several times, she could not hold it in her fragile, yet fruitful brain.
I lost my cool and took out some of my frustration on her. For this I feel tremendous guilt. But I took to it another level. Why did I react so strongly to her repeated questions?
Well one reason was having to repeat the same info several times. There is no doubt that it is difficult to have to go back and reiterate the some information many times, especially when one has taken care to give every bit of information the first several times.
There was more to it than that though. Fear. Fear of loosing her. And fear of my inability to rise above my petty weakness and weariness and inability to truly understand what this wonderful woman is going through.
I cannot even imagine how she is dealing with her mental decline. For sure, she knows her ability to think things through is lessening. I have not ever been a mental giant, but to feel what little mental ability I have slip through my fingers never to be scooped up again from the beach of life, is a daunting thought, to say the least.
olc
