Casting off
In scenes of family life, I see myself surrounded by strong people. My parents and siblings seem, most of the time, to have cherished many opinions, and I would be the first to say that I have learned to listen. I am a good listener.
Recently in the post-office, I found myself studying the cards and notelets on sale, glancing up at the outsize posters on the walls and wondering which ones I actually liked. Which in fact, were to my taste? And I struggled to answer. Because in my birth family I have so often been cast as ‘the youngest’ and one most in need of help and advice, my opinions have been muted so that even now, I struggle to know which of the many things I do, I do because they are my choice. Which of the many things I possess, do I hold because I choose to?
I struggle to know what I enjoy and what my tastes are. And when I know, I still find it hard to honour them: Wonderful walk on a sunny day, lovely meal, beautiful painting? Maybe later…
So often my choices have been coloured by wondering, “Would s/he like that? Would s/he approve? What would s/he do?” I discover, in late middle age, that learning to choose and decide for oneself, is something that most adolescents get through. As my own daughter nears the end of her teenage years, I marvel that she is already making the kinds of choices I still struggle with, navigating the world as I might have hoped to, had I been less cowed, less in awe of others’ certainty.
Yet, my age and experience confer at least a superficial dignity and the assumption that I know what I am doing. As I refine the processes of casting off from old family influences, I find I must go slowly and work in a new way to reach decisions, knowing that others besides me will have to live with their consequences.
The past, they say, is a foreign country, they do things differently there. And, life, as they say, is a work in progress.
I hope I am making progress.
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July 4, 2022
Testing Positive
Fran Macilvey 'Trapped: My Life with Cerebral Palsy', Fran's School of Hard Knocks, Happiness Matters 8 Comments
Testing positive
Sorry, this isn’t a post about the current isolation rules, the different expectations between England and RUK, though it could be: one of my immediate family tested positive yesterday, and we are still working out what to do about it. I expect that we will buy in a few more Covid tests, make a plan, and try to stick to it. Positive family member will isolate until they have two negative tests; in the meantime, it is highly likely that we will all catch Covid, and if we do, we isolate until we all have two negative tests.
No, my thoughts run in a different direction this morning: My mother is now staying in Montrose. While husband, daughter and I were away in Paris for a few days at the end of June – we all tested negative several days in a row – arrangements were put in motion for my mother to transfer north. With the decision a fait accompli before our return from holiday, a week later, bags and books packed and private ambulance organised for the trip from Edinburgh, Mum is now in a new home.
I have felt, and do feel, grief about this. The move was sudden, and, given the long silence, unexpected. But there are other thoughts that flit in my head, so abruptly emptied of things to think about: where there were pre-occupations, these are now not my problem, and I have a lot of space, into which thoughts are apt to enter, pause, meander and get lost for a while before being retrieved and dealt with.
I also notice, while chatting or being with others, that I’ve been in the habit of continually checking-in mentally, to see what I should be thinking about or doing for or with my mother. Now, I don’t have any of that to do at all, and though old habits are hard to break, I’m sure I will get used to it.
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