Life has its challenges, but last year mine was turned upside down.
I had what I considered to be the ideal work life balance. It was meticulously and painstakingly carved out and negotiated over the last 10 years, since the birth of my oldest son. My routine satisfied my wife, my kids and myself. Then, with one phone call, all of us were thrown into a sea of change.
At 2:00AM, on a Wednesday night, I received a call from the hospital. The conversation went something like this:
“Are you the son of Mrs. X”, said the voice on the other end of the line.
To which I replied “yes, is everything alright?”
“There’s been an accident. Your mother fell down her stairs. She’s sustained a concussion and a few bumps and bruises, but is otherwise all right.”
And with those words, a new reality was sprung. I was responsible for my mother’s well being. Not my late father. Not my late aunt. Not my sister who lives out of country. There was only me.
Fast forward a few days, and my mother was discharged from the hospital, having been diagnosed with benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV) , an inner ear disorder causing balance issues. But there was no way we could send her home. The mere thought of her experiencing another fall, alone in her house, petrified my wife and I. Not to mention my mother.
So we had a family chat between myself, my wife and the boys and we decided to invite my mother to live with us. Permanently. We had a spare bedroom and a full bathroom on the main floor, which meant no more stairs for her. We were in and out of the house, but we thought the hustle and bustle would be good for her.
She accepted the invitation without a hint of reservation. And with that, our lives changed. Unexpectedly, they changed for the better. Much, much better.
Luckily my mother has an affable personality. She’s pretty easy going (pretty sure my wife agrees, but that’s another story). But more than that, her presence has brought us all closer together. There’s a sense of belonging, of being part of something larger than ourselves. There was an emotional awakening.
All too often I’ve been consumed by constructing my own reality. My mother’s presence forced me to look beyond myself. So much of our current social construct is designed to separate us from others. We live in McMansions, where each family member has their own room – no shared space required. No compromise required. Even if we’re sitting in the same room, each person can be playing their own music through their smart phones, have their own conversations via text and messaging. What’s been lost is a sense of connectedness, the joy of opening yourself up to other people’s opinions, humour, interests and feelings. Learning by sharing.
My mother’s presence reminded us of that. My kids stopped running off to their bedrooms after dinner and instead started playing backgammon and cards with my mother. In the car on the way to and from school, my kids stopped hopping on their phone and would converse with my mother. After homework, instead of watching TV, my mother would take them for a walk and an ice cream.
My kids were transformed. Empathy is not a word I’d use to describe my kids defining character. To the dog yes, to other people, not so much. I’ve always written it off as a teenage thing. With my mother however, they’ve started to help and show interest and concern without being prompted.
Were there challenges? Of course. But we didn’t go in with the attitude of it’s our way or the highway. That would have been unfair and unkind to my mother. That said, we still had to attend to our own responsibilities like work and charity. We still had to pay attention to our health and happiness and go to the gym and out for dinner and drinks with friends.
We took advantage of technologies to help her keep safe while we were out of the house, like a video doorbell, nanny cam and a medical alert system with fall detection. She felt secure at all times and we had the peace of mind to take care of our business, without worry or feeling pressed for time.
If we needed to go on vacation, we’d hire a caregiver to stay with her for a few nights. If she needed to run her own errands, meet with friends or go to the senior center, we’d often help when time permitted or she’d arrange for free transport through our county’s senior program, to avoid relying or imposing on us.
My mother’s presence has reminded us that being a family, is not about shared space. Rather it’s about shared time. It’s not about being together. It’s about doing together. It’s about connecting and caring for one another. The challenge of making our new circumstance work was met by changing our frame of reference. Instead of designing our lives to be more and more independent from one another, we embraced the joy that comes from being together.
Photo Credits
Strong family roots – – depositphotos
Life with mom – depositphotos
Guest Author Bio
Michael Feldman
Michael Feldman left a career in consulting and investment banking to pursue his own interests nearly 7 years ago. Since then, he has developed several websites and been writing in his spare time.
He’s married to his lovely wife Trish and has two wonderful boys. His passion for the outdoors is fulfilled on weekends in the Green Mountains of Vermont, where he fly-fishes, gardens, mountain bikes, skies and takes long walks through the woods.
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