I Almost Missed My Own Beautiful Day

Yesterday was an amazing day.

I woke up to discover that someone had bought my highest-priced product on Etsy. A complete stranger chose something I created and paid actual money for it. That still feels a little miraculous.

I got some client work done. I went shopping for barefoot shoes and found a pair that should make walking easier and much less painful. I was able to use my birthday money to buy them, which made the whole thing feel like an especially good gift to myself.

Then I had a late lunch—or possibly an early dinner—with one of my best friends. The restaurant was wonderful. The food was amazing. I was sitting with someone I love in a beautiful place, and by almost every measure, I was having a nearly perfect day.

Except I wasn’t really there.

Part of me was sitting at the restaurant, but the rest of me was mentally several hours away at an assisted living place where my brother and mother were having a meeting about her care.

After all the assessments, changing care levels, new charges and disagreements over how everything had been handled, I knew what was happening in that room mattered. I was angry. I was worried. I felt protective of Mom, frustrated for my brother and deeply bothered by how quickly a conversation about care could also become a conversation about taking nearly all of someone’s money.

The assisted living facility would say they are making sure Mom’s physical needs are being met. And I do want her needs met. I want her safe, cared for and treated with dignity.

But I still disagree with how this was handled. It’s been a train wreck for us.

By the end of the day, they had gotten what they wanted: more of Mom’s money. A lot more. And Mom had gotten a little more care.

Later, I sat outside looking at this beautiful mountain lake I’ve been lucky enough to visit this week. The water was still. The mountains were right there in front of me. The sunset colors vibrant. It was one of those views that should stop you in your tracks. 

And I suddenly realized I had almost completely missed the joy of my own day.

I had made a sale.

I had done good work.

I had bought shoes that could make my everyday life easier.

I had shared a wonderful meal with one of my best friends.

I was sitting beside a mountain lake.

And I had barely been present for any of it because, mentally and emotionally, I was living Mom’s life instead of my own.

Then came the thought that turned everything around:

Mom’s big drama isn’t mine.

That may sound cold, but it isn’t. I love my mother. I will continue asking questions, paying attention, speaking up and helping when I can. Love does that.

But this is her money. Her care. Her life.

She is okay. She is safe. She is well cared for. Even though I disagree with how we arrived here, she will be all right.

And I am allowed to be all right too. More than all right. I am allowed to be happy.

My world shifted when I understood that this was not about me. It had never been about me. Yet I had allowed it to take over my thoughts, my emotions and a beautiful day that belonged to me.

Once I made the connection, the stress started to slide away and a feeling of gratitude and joy crept in.

There is a difference between caring about someone and carrying their entire life inside your nervous system.

I forget that sometimes.

Maybe we all do.

We allow ourselves to worry and view it as a form of love. That if someone we care about is having a difficult experience, we can’t fully enjoy anything until their problem has been resolved.

My carrying the meeting around all day didn’t change its outcome.

It only took me out of my own life.

I can love Mom and still notice the mountains.

I can disagree with the assisted living management and still celebrate an Etsy sale.

I can care about what is happening in her life without abandoning mine.

Yesterday really was an amazing day.

Thankfully, I came back to it before it was completely over.