I'm really tired. My bones feel tired.
To overstate the obvious it has been the year of the mommy. After a rough start we seem to have found a groove of sorts. I have friends who go the sports club where I swim so I get a ride four, sometimes five days a week. Mom lives right next door so they drop me off for my afternoon visit and sometimes one of them picks me up. They help me get Mom to Oak Street on Fridays and home on Sundays. Mom loves her care givers, particularly the home health care woman who helps her get started in the morning. She has music therapy on Wednesdays so I stay home that day. I usually get three or four calls and I make a few of my own. It's not totally off but it gives me a wee bit of distance.
But I don't really have that many friends in the Hood. There are times when they all leave town, or someone is sick, or just busy. I feel like I'm crawling along and suddenly the floor falls out from under me.
As long as the mommy is in assisted living she's OK. But OK and good are two different things. I want her to be good more often than not.
Am I taking care of myself? I dunno. I try. Swimming is essential for my well being. Books are essential. Good food and a balance between cooking and not having to cook. It doesn't seem like much.
At this moment I'm really down. Of course I am. Christmas was tough. And my systems of support have been wobbly. In a week or so the rhythm will come back and I'll be OK.
I mean, it is what it is. Ya know?
Hardest fucking year of my life. I'd like to qualify that with some acknowledgement of love and beauty but I'm too tired right now.
As a friend of mine says. "Onward."