Tha true loneliness of adulthood

Its 1:09 am and I’m sitting up in a living room chair getting my head together. I just put mom in an ambulance. She and my son were holding a strange conversation and from my bed I overheard in part. What I heard made me get up, and see what was going on. “Grandma you just took your sugar three times!” I heard my son say. I heard my mother’s muffled reply but I couldn’t understand the words. I got out of my bed and made my way to the living room. I found her slumped over in her chair. Her glucometer in her lap. “Momma whats going on?” I asked. She didn’t raise up or look in my direction to respond. “I’m tttrryyinn ttttooo get my blood sugar.” Her speech was slurred and sluggish and she even moved slow and sluggish. I saw the red digital 173 the results of her blood test. Not a bad reading for a type II insulin dependent so that wasn’t the problem. I wasn’t sure what the problem was, but I was worried so I called 911. After the paramedics came and took her the room fell silent. I sat in the chair looking at the Christmas tree that I put up earlier. The thought crossed my mind that she asked for the tree this year. It has been three or four years since we had any tree besides Charlie Brown. A few years ago I bought a fake white Christmas tree. It’s probably 2 feet tall and has lights already attached. All my kids were adults. Christmas decorations were no longer a big deal. So, I bought this table sized tree and named it Charlie Brown.

I remember every year during my childhood there being a Christmas tree filled with lights and ornaments. Lights hanging along the eaves around the perimeter of the house. We would have towels with Santa and reindeer on them hanging in the kitchen. Rugs in the bathroom with different Christmas designs and characters. I remember Mom loved to decorate for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

After the last three or four years with just Charlie Brown sitting on the table top she wanted a big tree.

Momma’s condition has been slowing declining over the last couple of years. The past few months she had seemed to pick up the pace. Some days she gets through without much trouble. At least once a week now it’s not so good. She just says “I don’t feel good .” She’s always complaining of being cold 🥶 but the last few days it’s been so bad that I talked her into trading rooms with Mo. Last night she woke me up around 2:30 am. I don’t know what woke me exactly but on my way to the bathroom I noticed the thermostat was set at 100! I set the temperature back down to a decent 75 and looked towards her bedroom. I could see her sitting in the dark on the edge of her bed. Her arms were folded about her like she was giving herself a hug. “I’m cold” she said. I went and grabbed her heated throw from her recliner and helped her into bed. For the next couple of hours she would keep me awake getting up and down from her bed going back and forth to the bathroom. She had informed me earlier in the day that she was cold and couldn’t sleep all night the night before. This was shaping up to be part two I supposed. Only this time I wouldn’t be sleeping either.

Mommas house was built in the 1950’s. Three bedrooms. Two in the back of the house and one just off the living room. On the wall of the living room that continues down the hallway towards the bedrooms is a wall heater. The heater sets in the wall opposite the door to Mo’s bedroom. This creates a constant flow of heat to that front bedroom. Mine and mommas rooms are always cooler in the day and down right cold at night. A cold room is heaven for me! Menopause and hot flushes make winter my favorite time of year! I have block-out curtains and dark purple velvet drapes on my windows. In midday with no light on it’s pitch black in my room. On any given night in January you may see your breath in the air when you breathe in my bedroom! Mommas room was almost as cold as mine. Too cold for her nowadays.

I’m sitting at my mommas hospital bedside now. It’s now 3:15 am. Results of blood tests are showing infection the nurse informs me. I’m here with momma and supporting her. I’m thinking how I wish I had a special someone’s shoulder to lay my head on right now. It’s times like this that I am reminded of the true loneliness of adulthood.

I am taking care of my aging sickly mommy. Essentially waiting for her to die. It’s not a nice way to put it I know, but it’s the truth. I’m her only daughter able to do it so I’m doing it. My everyday life is built around her needs and her needs keep increasing.

That shoulder where I want to lay my head is yet to be found. Adulthood is lonely and I should embrace and accept it I guess. I’m working on it. #adultingsucks

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