Writing 101

To Write or not To Write, that is the question….

I think about all kinds of topics to write about, especially after a couple glasses of wine. Then I fall asleep. Then I wake up, and forget all about it. Are you all like that? I think about the importance of sitting in front of a computer spilling my guts for an audience of one, me.

I read what I have written in the past few years and some of it makes me laugh, some of it makes me cry, but I am moved by all of it. It’s like a diary of my life, good and bad. Just my reflections at the most difficult and important time of my life, so far.

Had I not committed my experiences to the typed word, it may never have existed at all, least of all in my mind. It exists today, only because I had to write it down, or surely, I would have forgotten all of it.

It all started when I was losing my mind, literally. My mom, may she rest in peace, was making me crazy. Rather than get angry with a 90-something-year old lady, clearly living on borrowed time, I chose to write about my Life with Benita, and find the humor in that, rather than to dwell on the angst.

I loved to cook, mom was dangerously underweight. My sister, her caregiver (for several years in Denver), hated to cook, so the natural thing to do was to move her in with me, in Southern California. I had recently retired and finally had time to help out.

After a few years, I too hated to cook. The one thing I was pretty good at, wasn’t good enough to keep our mom alive.

I started each day with dread. First, if she slept too late, I worried she had passed away. If she woke up, I worried she would refuse to eat anything I prepared, then she would die, because I couldn’t cook food she would eat.

In the end, it is exactly as I suspected it would be. I miss her, immensely. I am grateful for every second I was able to care for her. It is NOT like the movies. It will not be like you caregivers expect. Your parent will try your patience, but what you will remember is the time you said; “MOM, you gotta put on the Bidet!” and she said: “Honey, its on…”

It wasn’t, but she tried.

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