You Can't Win Them All

It's no secret why we're here.  At least it's no secret to me.  My parents are wrapping up their lives.  From my point of view, they've had great lives.  Great in the sense that they lifted themselves up and out of poverty, great in that they were adventurous and took risks.  Their lives have been great in that they built and amassed a fortune (to them and to many).  Great that they raised two wonderful daughters, have lived to spend time with their grandchildren.  Great that well into their 80's they've been relatively healthy.  Their point of view may differ.  I'm sure they feel there have been some great moments, some terrifying moment, some boring moments and some terribly sad moments.  Such is most people's lives.  You take the good with the bad and in the end it's a matter of attitude.

Still it makes us all a little sad to see the "aging" part of the moment.  The aches and pains, the limitations, the screaming, not because you're angry but because daddy is hard of hearing.  It makes me sad to repeat myself over and over because mom forgot what I just. told. her. (Deep Breath)

These days my mom has been "in a mood."  This means she usually wakes up angry.  Angry about what no one knows...including her.  She heads to the kitchen to make dinner (Because I CAN still cook, you know!)  But she get frustrated.  Things aren't where she can find them.  She blames me for moving things around.  (The truth is that nothing has "a place" in her kitchen.  You want a spatula, you have to search in every drawer and even then sometimes you'll find it with the pots and pans.)  She slightly burns the beans.  She gets angry and says, "It's no wonder I burned them I'm in such a rush."  Sometimes I forget to let things go so I ask, "Rush?  Why are you in a rush?  It's 10:00 am"  She shoots me a look that lets me know I've crossed a line.  I've called her out.  See, she doesn't know why she's in a rush, but she anxious and she's cooking and I'm not helping by pointing out how insane this all is.  So I say as kindly as I can, "Why don't I get out of your way and let you work.  It smells delicious, Call me if you need anything."

Sometimes her anxiety goes away as quickly as it comes.  Sometimes it lasts for days at a time.  The litany is extensive:

Her house is overrun with children.
The cat is black and she doesn't like black cats.
I cook really weird things
We're all trying to drive her crazy
My sister doesn't feed her family.  They are starving.
I don't love her or my kids don't love her or my dad or my sister or her brother or whoever!
My dad is purposely trying to drive her crazy
He's hiding something from her
Someone always has to shit in the "clean" bathroom
I'm trying to keep the Mercedes for myself
My kids will grow up savages because they don't go to school

On a good day however:

She loves the laughter of children
The cat is so affectionate
I'm a good cook
We're all so patient with her
My sister is a good mother and wife
She lucky to be so loved
My father is a saint
My father has always been so generous with her
She insists that I take the car
My kids are so well mannered

but you know what...

Someone always shits in the "clean' bathroom.

You can't win them all.