Month: July 2015

And Then…

Update on the hearing aid situation:

The day after I posted about my delays in getting my mom’s hearing aid repaired I did, in fact, manage to get it fixed and back to her. Mad props to Columbia Hearing Center for excellent and speedy customer service, especially as the holiday weekend approached.

I delivered the working device to my mom with the satisfied feeling that comes from one less item on your to-do list. Only to have her say, “I got something in the mail. I don’t remember what, but I remember thinking you should look at it.”

I found the envelope the top drawer of her nightstand:

Jury summons

I looked it up on the state’s website. There is no maximum age for jurors. Apparently, residing at a skilled nursing facility is no automatic exemption, either. What can you do but laugh?

No worries. I contacted my mother’s doctor, who was happy to email a letter stating Mom should be excused from jury duty indefinitely.

It’s always something, rarely anything I expected.

Feeling the Sandwich This Week

Sometimes lately, I can breathe. Sometimes, now that my kids are young adults, I feel a little space opening, giving me fewer needs to meet, fewer conflicting priorities. But then I have a week like this one. This week, this is me.

grilledcheese

Not only sandwiched, but toasted.

Mom’s hearing aid needs repaired. I don’t remember the brand or know where to take it. But surely I can find time to pick it up to see the brand and then find a place that will service it. Um. That much is accomplished. As far as actually getting it to the place…I feel like the world’s most neglectful daughter.

My older kid found a job they want to apply for, which is way up there on the priority list and a major step forward, but they’re floundering in confusion and anxiety over creating a resume. Can’t wait forever to apply; got to get it done right away. Sure, I’ll help. Anything. Anything to help facilitate this step toward self-reliance. Conflicting priorities. I choose helping my firstborn over taking in my mom’s hearing aid. It can wait one more day. I should have a couple of hours after work and before the business closes.

Oh, but then my second-born has arranged to have his friends gather at our house as soon as I’m home from work. It’s the only time all summer they can make it happen, what with all of their various summer classes, jobs, travels and volunteer obligations. One of the boys in the group is leaving the country in a couple of days. These are good kids. Regardless, I’m not leaving a bunch of teenaged boys unsupervised in my house for any length of time.

I’ve also been prepping for a program at work that puts me in a role I haven’t played before. Ideally, this should only affect me during work hours, but I have so much anxiety about it I feel compelled to spend time at home refreshing myself on the details to know and remember.

I was about to call my mom last night and explain all of this to her, hoping she could hear my words of reassurance that she isn’t forgotten, when the tornado sirens went off. Have I mentioned the weather? We’ve been spending a lot of time in the basement lately. Fortune has spared us tornado damage, but not the imminent threats.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will definitely get to the hearing aid place. And hope they’re not closed early for the holiday weekend. Sorry for making you wait, Mom. I said SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT ON YOUR HEARING AID.