You know that old saying, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you?" Well, I am tired of catering to the hand.
My family-mom's side-is angry at me. They have some sort of problem with the fact that I haven't moved back here for good. They think because my parents are sick that I should stay forever, and they make their lame mutterings known to everyone they come into contact with that I mutually know. Frankly, it's not encouragement from the Lord and I don't care what they think. The words they speak are defaming my character, manipulating my emotions, and making me feel guilty.
And I don't have to put up with it.
My mom is having her breathing problems, but I am really wondering why she only has these "attacks" when we are talking about things like me leaving, planning things for my dad or talking about money. I definitely don't think that the things she is feeling are coming from God. And I have told her so. I have even counseled her, if you will, about how to stop these feelings spiritually. But I am no superhero.
I have heard two doctors say to her that she is probably losing her breathing because of her anxiety. The docs haven't noticed a heart problem and they aren't taking any more steps to strengthen her heart right now. I think that this is all just a psychosomatic thing.
She keeps saying that my dad is going to go to this assisted living apartment with her, but he won't have a bed there. I had just had her talked out of that as an idea when my mom's sister made the idiotic move of trying to get my mom to have my dad move in with her. There's not enough room in the apartment. For sure. And my dad deserves a bed. The man deserves a bed. And his own space. I just really don't think that they should go there.
My dad actually needs more care right now than this place could provide or that my mom could provide. He gets all depressed and doesn't take care of stuff as far as his health is concerned when he is out of a hospital setting. That is what makes me nervous. I just want the man to die with some dignity.
But my mom is so concerned about money that she can't see that her and my aunt's way will strip him of all that.
I have been praying about another issue too. My mom has it in her head that I am going to clean out her apartment for her. She added to it all by saying that if we sold the stuff in her apartment it would be money in my pocket, as if money is ever something that motivates me. She all but told me it is my job to handle this. But it's not. I'm going to tell her tonight that I am not taking on that big of a project right now. I am not in the place to do it, and I respectfully decline. I sometimes wish I was in a place right now to do all of those things that she would want me to do.
But it's not about me being in the right place. I am in a good place. It's this situation that has me all screwed up. It's hard, and there is no manual for how to get this accomplished. My mom's family has stuck me with this job. I am sure that my aunt has told my mom that I need to handle it or I will, but I am not willing to do that. I have done a lot for my parents, and I have no regrets about not doing enough. Some days, I have worn myself out trying to fight and keep their heads above water.
But tackling my mom's apartment? I think that's too much for me too handle at this point. I can't do that by myself. And my family will come over and just give me crap about what I am doing with my life. They don't understand God. So they don't understand me. I wish they would try, but they are too small minded to open up and really listen to what I am saying.
I'm sorry if that makes anyone feel that I am rude or ungrateful or a bad daughter or whatever. However, I do not apologize for my decision. And I am 90% sure that is where the line will stay. I just can't take on my family and this project of organizing. It's times like this I wish I wasn't an only child.
But that's the way it is. Someone always cleans up my parents' messes. I am not willing to do that anymore. I told my mom not to get the new car that sits undriven in her parking space. I told her not to go to that apartment that she moved to, and I even told her to get rid of the stuff that she has accumulated over the past few years. She hasn't listened to me. And she won't. I can't change her.
I have made my peace. I realize for real now that this stuff is not my fault. And that's the end of it. Truthfully, it seems worth it to me. The "bleh" I have been through this summer really seems worth it if that is the change of heart I have had since coming here. I no longer take, claim or will accept responsibility for the things my parents have done. It is only a reflection on me if I let it be.
They say, "Don'te bit the hand that feeds you."
I say, "Screw the hand."
God is the hand that feeds me.