I think I have forgotten how to take care of myself.
In the week since my mother died I have not cooked or cleaned, I have not washed a dish and I have not been grocery shopping.
I have merely existed.
The incredible people who called my mother friend have done the rest.
The fridge is full of food lovingly made or bought by people who aim only to ease our burden. I don’t know what I would have done without these generous people.
We came to call the women who watched over my mother in her last months her ‘angels’ and those angels, and so many more, have continued the tender care even as their charge has passed from this world.
While I am still caught up in the complications of the estate, I am nearing the point of having to go home and start actually living my life.
I’m not sure how I’ll do that.
The husband will have to go back to work after a generous compassionate leave. The kids will go back to their routine and I’ll have to go back to somehow managing it all.
All I want to do, however, is crawl into bed and forget it all for a while.
There will be noses to wipe and bums to change. The school bus won’t stop coming… but somehow the daily routine of packing lunches and making dinners, of cleaning toilets and making beds just seems overwhelming.
No matter how much I want dinner to make itself, life will go on. I just have to find a way to catch up.