Leaving Home


Today is my last day with my mom and the cats. I came home to help her when she had rotator cuff surgery two weeks ago. Though I am leaving, I am worried about her. She still can't move her arm to drive, cook, clean. I sincerely wish I could stay, but the decisions I would have to make are hard, and negotiating more time off from work wouldn't be fun either. It is tempting to just let it all go and be here with her.

I am grateful for the time I had here, yet I feel like it wasn't enough. I didn't do enough to ensure her comfort after I leave. I didn't cook enough, plan enough, set up enough of a support structure for her in my absence and that weighs heavily on my mind. I know she says that she'll make it, but she deserves more than just "making it." My biggest fear is that the woman who brought me up to be independent will push herself a little too hard and hurt herself. But I know that I have to trust that everything will be ok, but knowledge and feelings are like oil and water. They are each so different, and vital; they exist one within the other, but never the same.

I will be returning to high pollen counts again. I am concerned about how that will affect my asthma (will I get sick again?) and I really hope to get back into running. I haven't had any problems here. As a matter of fact, even with two cats in the house, I have been off of my inhalers for some days now. I will return to my full-time job, the benefits of which are pretty on paper. I will be starting a part-time job in a nice restaurant. I will be planning June's dinner, and something special for August. I will also start planning a wedding cake for the end of July. I haven't done a wedding cake in many years, and I don't care to do them, but it is a favor for a friend and it helps. It will be really simple since they are on a budget, so at least I won't have the stress of a complicated cake with gum paste flowers and pastillage.

I write this in my room while my laundry is washing. The bed is stripped and I am packing my personal items away, once again returning my room to its unoccupied-until I return-order.

The cats are snuggled in with my sleeping mom. They don't know that I'm leaving, but my mom will tell me all about how Minnie is crying, looking for me. She will sit outside my closed door and call and call until my mom opens it and tells her that I am not there. This has been my longest visit so far, since October, so I know it will take her a couple of days to get over it.

Well, I suppose it's time for me to close this and finish getting things together. After all, procrastination never slowed time.

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