tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9120696498216284839.post3122285959914423787..comments2023-06-25T08:14:09.233-04:00Comments on Champagne and Chocolates: The Mission for AprilCatherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16862784896982818464noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9120696498216284839.post-41289345751943269362007-04-02T05:50:00.000-04:002007-04-02T05:50:00.000-04:00"Cold and heartless" is what people who are manipu..."Cold and heartless" is what people who are manipulating you call your acts of self-preservation. I have a friend like your friend, but mine has sacrificed many years for her elderly father. She has postponed getting married (she has the most patient fiance in the world) and works at a job she truly hates, that is beneath her considerable talent, all so she can be there to deal with her father, who is in his 80s and appears determined to break 100. There are siblings, but she is, of course, the daughter who is in charge of everything, not by choice but because the others didn't step up. On the one hand I admire her devotion, on the other, I think about where she will be when he finally does pass on, and how many years of her own life she's lost already, and what kind of feelings of resentment and laundry list of lost opportunities she's going to deal with later. It's her choice, she's extremely smart and knows all of this, but I cannot make that same choice. I don't claim to be wonderful and noble and self-sacrificing.Catherinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16862784896982818464noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9120696498216284839.post-27421416859894435002007-04-01T20:45:00.000-04:002007-04-01T20:45:00.000-04:00A friend of mine moved away to a place she loved. ...A friend of mine moved away to a place she loved. Then she got thinking about her parents and that they were old and sick and going to die, so she moved back. For ten years. They didn't get old and sick and die. She moved back to where she loved. One got sick and died, of course - but five years after she'd moved back to her own heaven. <BR/>Just something to consider.<BR/>(By the way, I'm not normally cold and heartless - this is just a phase I'm going through.)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9120696498216284839.post-28269838277067106712007-04-01T16:23:00.000-04:002007-04-01T16:23:00.000-04:00I could enlist them and they'd do it, but she woul...I could enlist them and they'd do it, but she would not be cooperative - or worse, she would go along because she's convinced that if I get upset I will drop dead now, even though I've explained that the aneurysm has been clipped and disappeared. She'll go along, and then spend the rest of her life telling us how sorry she was that we let her get rid of a particular lamp or a table, and crying and moaning about what a mistake it was to move, and the neighbors are spying on her and why do we think she's crazy?<BR/><BR/> And that is if I could get her to agree to move, other than "in with me," which is totally not an option. I can eliminate that by getting a 1 br. apt for myself, and I would be happy to find her a suitable place near wherever I end up, but she is "of sound mind" from a legal standpoint. She is not sane from an "Oh yeah? Try living with her!" standpoint, but I can't make decisions for her, and I also know she won't make them for herself. <BR/><BR/> Trust me on this, I've tried for many years to get her to move closer to me, while my father was still relatively healthy, because I knew he'd go first. And over the years my mother has driven several realtors to rehab. Just one example from the many: we found a perfect condo five minutes from me 10 years ago, ground floor, spacious, sunny, with a screened lanai and lovely landscaping AND a garage connected to the unit. It met every criteria she had ever mentioned. My father was delighted and ready to sign a contract, after they went home my mother whined about it so much he threw up his hands and said forget it. Why? Because the unit (which was empty and immaculate) had a rust stain in a toilet bowl. I am not making that up. <BR/><BR/>Frankly, she can sit in that house as long as she wants, until she takes some affirmative steps to do something, I am not going to try. It's not the logistics of moving her as much as the crazy drama that will go with it that makes me dread the thought.Catherinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16862784896982818464noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9120696498216284839.post-44089074793537506422007-04-01T15:46:00.000-04:002007-04-01T15:46:00.000-04:00Can you enlist your son and daughter to help you s...Can you enlist your son and daughter to help you sort out your mother's "stuff" if/when she agrees to move?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9120696498216284839.post-55551290712448278452007-04-01T13:37:00.000-04:002007-04-01T13:37:00.000-04:00I have the opposite problem - my small personal tr...I have the opposite problem - my small personal trainer will NOT let me forget to take him for a walk in the evening, no matter how much exercise I've already had! This morning he started in on me before I'd had my first cup of coffee - he did not win that round.Catherinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16862784896982818464noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9120696498216284839.post-91761006652795510932007-04-01T11:29:00.000-04:002007-04-01T11:29:00.000-04:00I'll have you know Aslan is really pissed at you. ...I'll have you know Aslan is really pissed at you. If it weren't for this cockamamey Walking thing you've come up with, he could sleep much more comfortably (on my lap, under covers, as is the preferred position). Thanks to you, if I'm up and moving, he's really only able to get a solid 20 hours a day. You should see the little bags under his eyes.Amiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06902177995467607477noreply@blogger.com