Although nobody has been clamouring for a new post, I thought I would give this blog thing a go, again.
Today, I spent some time at my mother's place. We were clearing all of the furniture out my baba's room: she is now permanently in an old folks home. As I was disassembling the frame of the bed, I had a moment of realization. The metal beams and plywood that I was taking apart had been supporting my grandmother for as long as I can remember. Not only physically, but also mentally: my baba has a habit of lying in bed when she was feeling depressed, and has throughout her life. A coping mechanism, if you will.
My mother has a tremendous amount of pent up guilt about leaving my baba in the hands of the people in the retirement home. After spending seven years providing home care for my grandmother (living with her in the house where she grew up) my mother wasn’t able to care for my grandmother anymore, and had neglected to care for herself. My mother had been supporting my baba for a long, long time. I, on the other hand, was there to support my mother: physically, by getting these things out of the house; and mentally, by reminding her that she has been as supportive as anybody could possibly be, and that it was time to put herself at the forefront of her life.
Recently, in various media, I have heard a couple of variations of the saying that, “the only person that you can depend on is yourself.” I think that's a crock of shit. Yes, ultimately we are responsible for our own actions and ourselves. However, without being able to be weak, admit defeat, and ultimately depend on a loved one for support to get us through a rough time, we are not human.
We all need support, and today, I was there to support my mom, just like so many people support me.
Clockwise from the far left: my great-aunt Katerina, my mother, my baba, my dido, my sister, and myself.
