Old themes returning

Rewind.  Here we go again.

A few days ago, Mom said that she hoped that my husband and I took good care of our health (more about how she said that later in this post), so that we don't experience the terrible life that she is experiencing.

What?  Terrible life?  That came out of left field... though ... it really just is a replay of old poor-me comments.  Every time I think we've licked the self-pity and helped her get a positive attitude, she regresses.  Sigh.  Do I sound unsympathetic?  I'm not, not entirely anyway.  I'm ambivalent, really.  Yes, of course she is not enjoying this difficult phase of her life and that's sad, but on the other hand, she has chosen so much about where and who she is.  She has chosen to sit alone in her room, she has chosen to make Dr Phil as the high point of her day.  So, yes, I am mixed between sympathy and impatience.

I asked her why her life is so terrible.  She said it's because she has no friends.  She recalled back to before she moved here locally, as if that was some idyllic life filled with fabulous friendships.  So I asked her if she had friends in her previous senior housing complex - 'well, no not really, but I knew people'.  "Oh, kinda like here?" I replied.  Yes, she said, I guess so.  Then I asked if before Dad died, were there more friendships then?  Yes, that's it.  He was the outgoing one, and (in her words...) "I just went along for the ride".

Honestly, I feel rather sorry for her, though mixed with annoyance and impatience.  Her entire life she has 'gone along for the ride' with a more social husband.  (She has forgotten that although he was more outgoing, his rudeness also deeply offended many many people who refused to maintain a friendship. The rear-view-window is pretty rosy.)  But isn't that just too sad that someone has lived their entire life without the gift of knowing how to reach out to others?  of being so self-involved that she isn't interested in others' lives?  She commented about a woman very recently widowed that she must not be grieving much because she is already back eating in the common dining room! She is famous in her home for loudly making rude comments about others, and she is reaping what she has sown.

I told her that just outside her door are a small army of individuals who are also lonely.  All she has to do is just go knock and say hello, how are you doing today?  As she's done before, she agreed that she could do it and probably should.  And soon, this whole conversation will be repeated.  I give it a month at most.

Her way of telling me that my husband and I should take care of our health is to tell us that we each needed to lose 100 pounds, 'for her'.  Good grief.  Yes, both of us need to lose weight, but 100 pounds is insane.  Very very hurtful. I felt again like the crushed preteen that suffered cruel comments on my weight from my cold mother so many years ago.  The next day after our conversation, I went back and said how much it hurt me and to please know that, on the list of my motivators, she is way way down on the list, and to please never ever mention it again.  It's not her problem, it's not her business.  "Yes but..." was her response.

Rewind.  Replay.  Here we go again.