It came up again in conversation with my daughter. It was about where she could go to graduate school and each time it arises I stiffen and a cold hand squeezes my heart. Today the challenge was, "you seem to want me to stay within a 200 mile radius until you die". I replied, that it would be nice and heard back "that's rather limiting don't you think?" The subject was dropped.
What was unspoken was "you could live for twenty more years."
What is wrong with me? Why does the idea of her going far away scare me so? I gave her the wings to fly and encouraged her to use them. She was encouraged to go to Manitoba and to the Yukon. I'm quite disgusted with myself. What has changed? Is aging the culprit?
I'm 70 now and a PhD is a four year commitment. I'll be 75 by the time she completes it. What is my expectation for a quality life at 75? Possibly good, but realistically, not so much. I'm on life's downward slope and can't slow the decent. Maya is all I've got in this world and everything I've built and created and saved will pass to her. I have carried the ball all these years to give her a leg up in this world. I have put her first for so long, that I feel selfish when I worry about myself. I look for some sign that she gets it but how can she understand?
Maya is adamant about keeping the cottage but has not assumed much of the physical and financial burden. I'm running out of steam and cannot reasonably be expected to carry the load while she is away for another five years. It's my dearest wish to pass the cottage on to her because if we let it go, she will never find such a place again. It is irreplaceable.
Glenn is now a factor in her decisions and that is as it should be. What I keep hoping for, is the compromise that also includes me. I have an absolute dread of becoming ill and not having an advocate nearby that will fight for me and take care of my best interests. It's not the dying I fear, but dying alone because she is too far away to make it back in time. I'm afraid of ending up in a nursing home without visitors, and in my most negative moments I can see myself on the floor of my house for days before anyone notices I'm missing. Those are the darkest thoughts that grab hold of me when Maya talks about going away to Edmonton or Halifax or England.
I work at staying well and keeping involved and engaged in life, because I refuse to become a burden. I'm usually a positive person and I've tried hard to keep her free her from guilt, but now I need her to know my concerns. I want to be considered in her decisions and I need my reality acknowledged. She has to know that the choices she makes affect others, and face her decisions with mature awareness.
We need to sit down and talk about this without reservation or defensiveness. I need to trust her and she needs to make decisions today that she can live with tomorrow. There are no easy choices in an adult's life.
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About Me
- kingmisha
- I'm bigger than a pile of breadboxes, but smaller than a Sherman tank. I'm overeducated, underpaid but very content with my life. I have loved infrequently but intensely. I dated a poet, divorced a Dean, had an affair with a jazz pianist, was engaged to a diplomat, and widowed by my child's father. The men in my life were all very special. Not all grand passions but much loved in their time: Leonard Cohen, Alfred Pinsky, Billy Horn, Wendell Goodin, and Elliot Hirschman. Thanks for the memories... I'm a lapsed artist which doesn't really trouble me because I'm a very successful parent. I lacked the requisite conceit to persevere as an artist. I just couldn't make myself believe that my art came before my child. The world really doesn't need another sculptor (even a good one), but it does need another good human being. It can use all the good human beings we can turn out. I present Mambolica as my evidence so judge for yourselves.