It's been a week and a half since the closing on the
old house. The plan for selling the house all along was
to bring mom aboard so she wouldn't be alone over the
winter. We've achieved that, though not according to
plan. I think we've certainly added some stressors to
her life — she's become used to living alone — but I
think we've also made things much better for her.
I've been trying to be as helpful and out of her way
as I can be.
I guess I'm overly sensitive about the situation,
but I'm working really hard against any of us feeling
like we're occupying mom's home in more of a military
sense than a familial one. I want to be as cooperative
and helpful as I possibly can. The house is
getting a top-to-bottom cleaning. So far, the kitchen
has required the most attention — I found a bottle
of ketchup that expired over six years ago; its
contents looked like barbecue sauce. At that point we
brought in the big guns, and boy am I glad we did —
mold was found in a couple of spots and remediated.
This is in no way my mother's fault; it's merely
a function of settling into a life or environment,
combined with simply not wanting to deal with the
detritus of separation. I'm hoping our time together
here will be a rebirth of sorts for mom — that new
sweeter memories will gradually replace the bitter ones.
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