It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!
"You should call him," my mother said.
I was driving, and therefore, a captive audience. My uncle, her brother, doesn't live close, and he and his wife are in their late seventies. A hard age. Especially given a hard year. Especially given hard lives. I should call him.
I had called my cousin over the weekend. We don't mean to let long swatches of time go by. They just do. His life is full with his two sons. Mine with four daughters. Both of us with spouses and houses and jobs and whatever else fills the days and schedules and gets in the way of a quick text or a phone call. I should be making more time for texts and calls.
They're bad, D. had told me. His mother was in the hospital and refusing to get up and walk after her surgery. His father, my uncle, goes and visits but can hardly walk.
They can't get his meds right, D said.
Why is it that with all the knowledge in the world of medicine, I think, but don't say, they can't figure out how to manage mental illness?
I offer to take charge of ordering groceries and having them delivered. I offer to get in touch with social services or research living situations for them. D. says no. He does all that.
D. knows that they need to move out of their big house and into an assisted living place. He knows they need groceries. That they need professional help. He knows.
And we both know that needing and accepting are such different verbs.
Should I call him? I asked.
No, D said.
Maybe because D. gave the easier answer, I want to go with his answer over my mother's suggestion. Why is calling even that hard. I can put in my airpods and call when I have a big pile of laundry to do or a walk to take with the dog or even a drive. I should call. My mother's right. I know I should, but...
It was a relatively short time ago that my uncle was visiting, showing up at the house with bags of his favorite food, jokes, and an agenda that included a driving lesson for my oldest daughter, a task of courage and love. He was so up then. The driving lesson is a time marker, so I know it was seven years ago. Sometimes seven years doesn't seem like much, and sometimes it's a lifetime. Sometimes great events happen in seven years. And sometimes soul-crushing events happen instead.
"I'll call," I said to my mother.
Happy Slicing,
Melanie, this was such a compelling piece. Each line revealed more and the internal battle over reaching out or not....at the end when you talk of your uncle coming with groceries and a driving lesson- it just made me so sad for what has clearly changed. I hope the phone call is one that brings peace.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing the pull back and forth in a decision when life is changing and is challenging for your cousin, aunt and uncle. That honesty with self changes us. You also acknowledge the difficulty for you, even though you're not living in the challenging situation day by day. I hope the call goes well.
ReplyDeleteThis post really got at that feeling we have when we are pulled to do the right thing, but so unsure what that right thing really is. And this line - And we both know that needing and accepting are such different verbs. This line is so powerful. I wrote it down so I can really think more about it.
ReplyDeleteWhew. This is so relatable. The "I should"...the concern...the reality that 7 years is a blink sometimes. And that even though it's a blink, the amount of change in 7years can be huge.
ReplyDeleteThis piece captured the moment and the emotion so well. Also, I have a couple of phone calls to make today.
-Tim Wheeler
A whole bunch of emotions came up reading you today. I think I have people to call...
ReplyDeleteWell done. You were very effective in describing a plethora of emotions and tense inner conflict in a short and concise piece of writing.
ReplyDeleteThe first step is always the hardest and I am not sure D or your mom are right or wrong. I would be curious why said no and I am pretty sure why mom said yes. As the caregiver for my parents toward the end of their lives, I knew that a call was sometime confusing or distressing. Sometimes I advised people to call when I was there so I could scaffold and monitor their reaction on any given day. I love how you are keeping the memories - who they were and truly are alive. We all are behind on the call we should make ... important reminder. You did call D ... and maybe that is the person who really needs you right now.
ReplyDeleteThis resonated with me today. I have SO many calls that I need to make. So many calls I should make. Why is it such a challenge? You captured your thoughts beautifully.
ReplyDeleteDon't forget about the lemonade stands! Let me know how the call goes.
ReplyDelete. . . and I am D. I completely understand D's "Don't call." But what you could do instead is write. Not email or text, but a good ole fashion, put it in the mail, paper write. Write to your uncle, write to D, and write to your mom (and if you have time, write to me).
ReplyDelete