We were floating peacefully down the River of Life, preparing for Christmas holidays in Chicago, looking forward to release from the pressure of school and jobs. ED and the boys, that is. Mike and I deal only with the pressures of retirement and aging which are surprising.
Mowgli was showing his best side, buoyed by the upcoming break from school. Before leaving for Chicago, as I sat reading/watching TV in the living room, he approached and with smile and bold speech demanded I close my eyes. When I opened them, he held out a heavy cardboard box. This gift required no wrapping paper, already adorned in elegant colors, the magnetic clasped lid carved in the shape of a rose. Inside, a single white gilded rose. He allowed me a hug.
ED and the boys left the next day on the 20th of December to enjoy their vacation with the Chicago family. Mike and I joined them on the 25th, moving into a nearby VRBO to allow everyone space. Happiness and fun was the tone for the next few days, until the 30th, the day they were to leave. Mike and I took everyone out to breakfast before their flight. I could hear the rapids, everyone moody. The adult kids refused to consider my suggestions for activities. The younger kids were unhappy with the menu. Even the babies were irritable. Speech was monosyllabic. Time to go home.
Expected but disappointing. Life with ADD is a series of highs and lows. I had hoped the elevated mood would hold until ED and the boys left for the airport. Luckily, Mike and I weren’t driving them. We bade our farewells and strolled down north Clark street, stopping at Lady Gregory’s for a restorative cocktail. In these days following Christmas, the always popular Lady G’s was packed. We squeezed into stools at the bar and found, unlike our family, the staff and fellow patrons upbeat and friendly, a great antidote to the spirit of breakfast.
Our kitchen Alexa runs a slide show of photos. (I insisted on something other than news headlines which caused me much consternation.) I see Mowgli as a towheaded child, smiling, teasing, laughing. My heart rends when I think of what ADD has done to him. I snatch moments of joy.
Amid the shuffling of dominoes, talk turned one evening to where everyone would land in the next few months. I missed the segue but perked up during a discussion about putting parents in a “home.” Mowgli asserted that he wasn’t proposing putting his mother in a home. And added, also assertively, “I wouldn’t put Grandma in a home.” I'm assure myself he is talking about me.
I am concerned about surviving his mother who has proposed putting me upstairs with a stack of movies and a bottle of wine when dementia sets in--this from the dementia specialist.
I am considering firing ED as my medical POA and designating Mowgli. He has more depth than I realized. I think I am safe with him for a while.
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