In December of 2024, I let go of my old life to move into my 98 year old Mom’s house. It’s been a transition going from a fully independent grown up to a 24/7 caregiver. I’m still figuring it all out and making adjustments as I go. It’s been chaos and exhaustion, drama and beauty. It’s everything all rolled into one and it’s the perfect thing to write about. And so, we drop in sometime at the end of the first month, to explore the meaning behind lace curtains and creating your own space…I give you…”But There’s Lace”
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But There’s Lace
Last week I had a rather maddening day. Those of you who are old pros at 24/7 caregiving might call it “Tuesday”.
Sometime around 11 pm Monday night one of the supports on my bed broke. There was a loud pop from underneath and a slight sinking.
I knew what it was immediately.
Because it happened to another support two days before.
Shit.
We were planning to get to that Saturday.
So, damn.
I reasoned that I could sleep on the bottom half of my broken-ass bed and move the bed repair into the “Urgent” category.
As I switched the ends of the sheet and blankets from the foot of the bed to the head, I looked at Emma and said “whatever you do, don’t go under that bed”
What’s a cat to do?
She went under the bed.
Luna was much more sensible and opted for the top of the broken-ass bed.
We slept reasonably, it wasn’t terrible. As I’ve adjusted to life with a 98 year old, my slumber lately has been more of a crash into a deep sleep and awaken…whenever. I’ve achieved the same level of maternal awareness when I sleep as I had when my boys were young.
Then, as now, I awaken, tend to business and go back to a deep sleep.
I love my bed and I love how comfortable it is. Thus I’ve managed to squeeze it into a space that was not built for such things! That said, when I installed the bed, the room wasn’t decorated, it was an empty…and yet still cramped space. As luck would have it, I finished my final touches on the room the day before with everything “just right”. Now I would have to tear down the room once more and work in a space that is not built to accommodate the mattress and box spring anywhere but IN THE BED FRAME.
I ran into hubby in the hallway that night just after the bed broke. He said he would help me take care of repairs. Bless him, in the light of day, he took a quick exit after he helped me take the king mattress & box springs off the frame. He loves me, but he recognized that we would kill each other in a space that small.
I didn’t get it then. Impatience got the best of me, I must admit. My impatience and snarky attitude were yet another good reason for him to opt out of this chore.
I was in hunt it down and kill it mode. I knew what I wanted done. Yet, when he asked me what to do, I was willing to give up my ideas for his. He wasn’t buying it, he knew that in giving up my vision, I would be highly critical of whatever solutions he came up with.
And I DID have the vision; which must have been formulated in my wakeful moments overnight. I recall that I’d wake up, laugh at my situation (because why not?) and think “duct tape, I need duct tape” and “there’s spare wood in the backyard”.
The process of emptying the room, removing the mattress and box spring, and making the repairs took forever…there were a lot of steps and thankfully Mom’s caregiver was there that day for a couple of hours to hang out and laugh with her, giving me the time I needed.
I was working on my plan…
But everything stopped when the dog started barking at Scott.
Scott came in and said…”your mom is calling you”.
I went across the hall and found that she was panicked and disoriented. She had been in a deep sleep when the dog started barking. Having come out of her dream state, she couldn’t understand how she was in her bed when she had just been in the living room.
It took us a bit, but I had her look around the room and tell me what she saw (which is tricky for someone who is legally blind). She was able to identify the paintings and furniture in her room and finally began to calm down.
I got her to take deep breaths and hold my hand while I stayed calm with her and for her.
She said “when did I get so crazy?”
I said “you mean lately…or like forever?”
She chuckled.
She said she was fine now.
I went back to my plan…the bed was fixed, now to tackle the final project before putting the room back together.
The closet.
Years ago there were actual closet doors. However they were bulky and heavy and way too much for Mom to handle on her own, so we removed them. In one of our family clean up events, they were sent to the landfill.
Now, as I occupied the space, there needed to be something there. I’d been envisioning a pretty curtain rod with lace curtains. My lace curtains…I just love them. They work just as well as table cloths. They mean home. They’re me.
After several tries to get the curtains just right, I put the room back together.
40 minutes after the panic attack, Mom was up. She would be down, up and down again in the next two hours.
Scott insisted that I stop working and eat dinner. I was already 2 hours late getting weekly card readings to three clients. I quickly sent a message to each of them, putting them off til Saturday and explaining the situation.
I sat down to dinner, chewing but barely tasting my taco.
I still had to feed the birds, check on the fish, feed my cats ..feed Mom…
I was exhausted…again…
I fed the birds, fed my cats, checked on the fish pond, gave Mom dinner and set her in front of the TV to watch MASH.
I came into my beautiful, peaceful room and thought about the day. I checked my messages and received blessings from my 3 clients.
I turned on some music and thought about how incredibly tired I was. I wondered if falling into bed exhausted every night would become the norm.
And then I looked up, saw my curtains, smiled and said “but there’s lace ☺️”
It seems a tiny thing, lace curtains. Yet they are like an island of calm in the crazy life I’ve taken on. They bring me peace, they remind me of coolness and refinement and beauty. They somehow remind me to take a breath. They hide the ugliness and mess of my closet and they provide a barrier of sorts.
Now a week later, things have calmed down a bit. Mom isn’t having the disorienting dreams she was having at first. Her initial reaction to her new medications seems to have evened out and she’s slept through the night three nights in a row. We’re still adjusting, I know this is a hard transition.
And somehow, that moment of focus and the mantra “but there’s lace” has carried me through and reminded me that beauty exists and that I can always find grace.
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