So its hitting me now. My mother is so sick. And I don't know what to do. I try not to be depressed because, well, it doesn't help anything. For those of you who don't know its just me, my little sister Amy (who is 16, a hermit, and who I am guardian for), and me living in this small little house which is really quiet most of the time despite the constant hum of my mom's oxygen tank. I wasn't there last night to make dinner which is usually what my older sister will do and bring over, but I realized after I was already in Layton to help be a personal shopper for a friend (sometimes guys just need a little insight in the 'what should I wear on a daily basis' area) that I did not check to make sure that she would be. So I called my sis who had called my mom already, and since I had forgotten to tell my mom my plans for the day, had said I was home and could cook. So I had to call my mom and apologize and ask my little sister if she would cook. Guilt. I should be there.
My mom said she woke up in the middle of the night and was craving one of the sweet salads I make her (its nummy, with spinach, romaine, craisens, almonds, romano cheese, and blueberry pomegranate dressing) and didn't want to wake me up. So she tried to get to the kitchen herself. She couldn't find the almonds and craisens in the cupboards (her eyesight is still bad from the brain tumors and I am taking her to the doc again today for them) and subsequently knocked over several cans which knocked over a bunch of glass and it all made a big crashing noise. She said she was expecting both Amy and I to come rushing in freaked out like we usually do, but neither one of us woke up. Guilt.
I don't really know what to say.. Anything I feel like I want to say sounds like it would be complaining. I feel like a horrible daughter sometimes because even tho I only work 20 hours a week instead of my old 65, I feel like I am always gone doing something with friends or some such other activity. I try to only do things after 8 or 9 o'clock so that I know my mother will mostly be sleeping. Sometimes I forget and I will not have drained her lungs before I leave, which is really pretty uncomfortable for her and she really only has one she can breathe out of with the other having complications. And I will mistakenly give her too much or the wrong medicine. Like this morning. I didn't realize when I woke up to take my medicine and give her hers that she didn't need to take two pain pills anymore cause we had switched her to stronger medicine. So I gave her too many painkillers. She says its ok, things will start to even out with her meds and it just means she will sleep all day... Guilt. And a bunch of other stupid things I do wrong. I wish I was better at this. I wish I didn't feel the need to go out with friends, but I feel like I do sometimes for Sanity's sake.
I realize that all of the things I think I would enjoy doing, like going to Africa for a summer, or trying to do modeling seriously, are dreams that may be of the past, or at least postponed, or made that much harder because I will be here with my sister. I want to do this, but I feel like I am failing already. She might not graduate from 10th grade home school and I don't know how to help her since she wont take my help. Guilt.
I know life could be harder. I met a girl a few days ago who it looked like was burned head to toe and she only had one hand. She was sweet. She was hard to look at and I can only imagine what must have happened to have her look that way. But she was nice and seemed to have a happy attitude. It reminded me of how life can always be harder. Things can always be worse and how lucky I am for all the things I DO have. I'll try to be upbeat and cheerful, as usual. I can just tell it is getting harder. My mom has less freedom and strength than a 92 year old lady that walked in just fine to my restaurant yesterday. Its heartbreaking.. Again I am thankful for her cheerful attitude and for the opportunity to still have her here in my life, still teaching me lessons. Guess that's it for now. I'll think of something cheery next time to write about hopefully. Loves.
Ps. Boys are obnoxious.
Pps. Go home and hug your mom. Or call her if she's still here. Times a wasting. ♥
