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What a Difference 80 Years Make
Caring for my 81-Year-Old Mother, as a Mother of 3 Small Children.
Life is pretty chaotic at the moment.
I’m simultaneously caring for the needs of my hard-of-hearing 81-year-old mum and those of a toddler (who does not appear to have a ‘mute’ button). Throw in a 5-year-old and a 7-year-old, and you could say my husband and I have got our hands rather full.
I’m 36, an only child, and I took my mum to live with us when we moved abroad 5 years ago.
It’s safe to say I’m not very good at practicing gratitude in EVERY single moment these days. (Try and picture nap time. I’m shushing the baby’s boisterous big brothers while yelling at my half-deaf mum to keep it down).
As I write about having my dear 81-year-old mum live with me, my husband, and my three sons (aged 7, 5, and 1), I am reminded of the need to keep my heart soft. This responsibility entrusted to me is a great one that is not easy but one I want to see as a privilege.
One day, the last link to who I was and where I came from will be gone when my mum passes away.
One day my kids will be all grown up and will have flown the nest.
One day, these inter-generational, messy, loud days of living will be over, and…
