I wanted to tell you that I am a sandwich.
That’s right. I am part of what is called the sandwich generation. Besides taking care of our own kids, we also are taking care of our aging parents. In my case, it is parent, singular, since I lost my Mom in December. However, before she passed away, I was taking care of both of them for a period of about 5 months.
It was strange really. They went from rockin’ 80-somethings to needing help overnight, it seemed. It was about this time last year, that I noticed my Mom’s house just wasn’t what it used to be, and neither was she. She always kept her house in amazing shape. She was, among many other things, housewife extraordinaire. Her house was beautiful, she worked a job outside the home when I was growing up, her garden was perfect, she made her and our clothing, and SHE was beautiful. All while raising 3 kids. She was amazing.
But something changed about a year ago. I could see it in her eyes. I could feel it. After 85 years of being our rock, our strength, the center around which we all revolved, the glue in our family - I think she just got tired.
And I knew then, deep down inside, that very soon my world would be changing. A few months later, she became ill.
So now there is my 86 year old Dad. And I am a sandwich. In an effort to keep him in his own home, the home that he and my Mom shared for almost 50 years, I help him out with everything… Cleaning, shopping, errands, bills, medications, doctor’s appointments, etc. While still taking care of my own home, garden, errands, cleaning, shopping, laundry, husband and little girl. And trying to pursue my own dreams. All while mourning my Mom.
Sometimes I feel like a smushed sandwich.
And sometimes I feel like 2 pieces of bread with nothing in the middle at all.
But you know what? It’s my turn. I was blessed with the best parents in the world, and now it’s my turn to give back a tiny fraction of what they gave me.
I love you Mom and Dad.
