Mary Sisney's Blog - Posts Tagged "2014"
Operation Broken Microwave: Teaching Gratitude to the Ungrateful
I usually don't make New Year's Resolutions because I don't like to begin the new year with a lie. But I am making an exception this year because I recently discovered that my relationship with my mother needs adjustment. She has been living with me at least part of the year since 1990 when I was 41 and she was 62. From 1992 to 1997, she spent most of the year in our hometown, Henderson, Kentucky, living with me only during the winter months. Since November, 1997, however, she and I have lived together all of the time, spring, fall, summer, and winter; all day, every day, we have been living together.
Despite the fact that she is a talkative, high-maintenance drama queen, and I am an impatient (so is she), cranky, old hag who enjoys solitude, my mother and I have, for the most part, coexisted peacefully. We find each other funny, and everyone who encounters us, including salespeople in stores, doctors/nurses, the Molly Maids, handymen, and plumbers think we are hilarious. Some people have even suggested we should have a reality television show. However, as my now eighty-five-year-old mother has become increasingly more dependent on me, I noticed some changes in her attitude. About two years ago, she started complaining when I talked on the telephone. Although I actually talk on the phone less now than I did in the past because I can e-mail or post on facebook, she complains when she hears me on the telephone. I'm either talking too loud, too fast, or just too much. I was also disturbed by her seeming determination to prevent any of our close relatives from moving to California. One of my nieces is planning to move to San Diego because her husband, a soldier, is stationed there. The niece has a great job in Atlanta, but she and her two children obviously want to be with her husband. My mother argues that she should stay in Atlanta and not give up her good job. And when I suggested that my nephew, who is a musician currently living in Chicago, should move to this area because it's safer, she said, "They shoot more young black men in L.A. than in Chicago."
I want my niece, nephew or some other close relative living nearer for support during those medical emergencies that plague all old people not named Betty White. But my mother doesn't need anyone because she has me. When she mentioned that if my niece moved to San Diego, she would want us to babysit her children (San Diego is more than two hours away, and my niece is no fool; she wouldn't leave her beloved children with us), I realized that my mother didn't want any competition for my attention. Before I retired, she was never bothered by my telephone conversations, but since retirement, I have been a 24-7 unpaid caretaker/chauffeur, and my mother likes it like that.
There is one problem, however; I am almost three years older than my mother was when she moved in with me. So I'm now ready to be the old woman being taken care of instead of the younger caretaker. Because I didn't learn to drive until I was thirty-three, chauffeuring is the biggest problem for me, so I've suggested that she find a friend or neighbor to take her to the mall when she wants to go, and I am no longer willing to drive her to church for the one-hour service and then come back to pick her up. I'll take her, and she can ask one of her church members to bring her home. Enlisting a friendly neighbor or church member to assist with the chauffeuring will not only relieve me of my now too numerous for an aging baby boomer caretaking duties, but would also allow my mother, who has not been in the car with anyone except me since 2008, to interact with someone other than her daughter.
Of course, my mother's reaction was to accuse me of being mean, a terrible child. Since I took her to church and picked her up for nine years without complaining, she doesn't see why I can't continue to do it. When I remind her that I'm four years older than she was when her husband died, so she never had to take care of an old person (my stepfather was seventeen years older than his second wife) at my age, she doesn't seem to get it. Since I'm still twenty-one years younger than she is, she thinks I'm young, a girl.
But don't worry. I have a plan. It's called "Operation Broken Microwave." My mother is not unusual in taking the kindness and good deeds of a relative or friend for granted. We all do it. We all tend to treat people the way we do our appliances and equipment. Just as when we first get a new microwave, car, or computer, we are delighted with it and might talk about how much time and trouble it saves us but soon become used to it, so we are grateful the first few times a friend or family member drives us somewhere or lets us borrow the car but soon take those good deeds for granted and come to expect them. And just as we don't appreciate our microwave, car, or computer again until it breaks, so we don't appreciate the good deeds of our family members or friends until they are not available to us.
Therefore, in 2014 I resolve to be less available to my mother. Because I am a homebody whose favorite activities are writing and reading, I'm usually at home 22 hours out of 24. I'm always there to take care of her. In 2014 I'm planning to take day trips, go to the mall, and sit and people watch, go to libraries. I'm getting out of the house so that my mother can appreciate me when I'm at home.
I may be a retired teacher, but I still like to teach, and my mother may be eighty-five, but she can still learn. I hope that in 2014 she will learn to be grateful that she has a daughter still healthy, sane, and kind enough to take care of her (most of the time).
Despite the fact that she is a talkative, high-maintenance drama queen, and I am an impatient (so is she), cranky, old hag who enjoys solitude, my mother and I have, for the most part, coexisted peacefully. We find each other funny, and everyone who encounters us, including salespeople in stores, doctors/nurses, the Molly Maids, handymen, and plumbers think we are hilarious. Some people have even suggested we should have a reality television show. However, as my now eighty-five-year-old mother has become increasingly more dependent on me, I noticed some changes in her attitude. About two years ago, she started complaining when I talked on the telephone. Although I actually talk on the phone less now than I did in the past because I can e-mail or post on facebook, she complains when she hears me on the telephone. I'm either talking too loud, too fast, or just too much. I was also disturbed by her seeming determination to prevent any of our close relatives from moving to California. One of my nieces is planning to move to San Diego because her husband, a soldier, is stationed there. The niece has a great job in Atlanta, but she and her two children obviously want to be with her husband. My mother argues that she should stay in Atlanta and not give up her good job. And when I suggested that my nephew, who is a musician currently living in Chicago, should move to this area because it's safer, she said, "They shoot more young black men in L.A. than in Chicago."
I want my niece, nephew or some other close relative living nearer for support during those medical emergencies that plague all old people not named Betty White. But my mother doesn't need anyone because she has me. When she mentioned that if my niece moved to San Diego, she would want us to babysit her children (San Diego is more than two hours away, and my niece is no fool; she wouldn't leave her beloved children with us), I realized that my mother didn't want any competition for my attention. Before I retired, she was never bothered by my telephone conversations, but since retirement, I have been a 24-7 unpaid caretaker/chauffeur, and my mother likes it like that.
There is one problem, however; I am almost three years older than my mother was when she moved in with me. So I'm now ready to be the old woman being taken care of instead of the younger caretaker. Because I didn't learn to drive until I was thirty-three, chauffeuring is the biggest problem for me, so I've suggested that she find a friend or neighbor to take her to the mall when she wants to go, and I am no longer willing to drive her to church for the one-hour service and then come back to pick her up. I'll take her, and she can ask one of her church members to bring her home. Enlisting a friendly neighbor or church member to assist with the chauffeuring will not only relieve me of my now too numerous for an aging baby boomer caretaking duties, but would also allow my mother, who has not been in the car with anyone except me since 2008, to interact with someone other than her daughter.
Of course, my mother's reaction was to accuse me of being mean, a terrible child. Since I took her to church and picked her up for nine years without complaining, she doesn't see why I can't continue to do it. When I remind her that I'm four years older than she was when her husband died, so she never had to take care of an old person (my stepfather was seventeen years older than his second wife) at my age, she doesn't seem to get it. Since I'm still twenty-one years younger than she is, she thinks I'm young, a girl.
But don't worry. I have a plan. It's called "Operation Broken Microwave." My mother is not unusual in taking the kindness and good deeds of a relative or friend for granted. We all do it. We all tend to treat people the way we do our appliances and equipment. Just as when we first get a new microwave, car, or computer, we are delighted with it and might talk about how much time and trouble it saves us but soon become used to it, so we are grateful the first few times a friend or family member drives us somewhere or lets us borrow the car but soon take those good deeds for granted and come to expect them. And just as we don't appreciate our microwave, car, or computer again until it breaks, so we don't appreciate the good deeds of our family members or friends until they are not available to us.
Therefore, in 2014 I resolve to be less available to my mother. Because I am a homebody whose favorite activities are writing and reading, I'm usually at home 22 hours out of 24. I'm always there to take care of her. In 2014 I'm planning to take day trips, go to the mall, and sit and people watch, go to libraries. I'm getting out of the house so that my mother can appreciate me when I'm at home.
I may be a retired teacher, but I still like to teach, and my mother may be eighty-five, but she can still learn. I hope that in 2014 she will learn to be grateful that she has a daughter still healthy, sane, and kind enough to take care of her (most of the time).
The Best of Times, The Worst of Times: 2014 In Review
Several times I've described race relations in America since the election of Obama as representing both the best of times and the worst of times. Having a half-black President and his blacker family in the White House has been the best of times. When he visits Los Angeles, my mother and I love watching him run up the steps to the airplane and take off for the White House. But the increased racism resulting from the backlash to his election has been the worst of times, especially for us pre-Civil Rights era blacks who are sick and tired of dealing with racism.
That Dickens phrase, which I did not realize Obama had also used (in a 2009 interview) to describe race relations in America, perfectly captures my attitude toward 2014. Politically, it was the best of times and the worst of times. In November California stayed deep blue, and the very competent, intellectual, almost-as-cool-as-Obama Governor Jerry Brown won his fourth term without spending any money. But nationally it was the worst of times as Republicans won races they should have lost while the weak Democrats ran away from this very successful, half-black President.
Economically, it was the best of times for me but not because gas prices went down, wages went up slightly, and more people were employed. I'm retired and drive fewer than 3,000 miles per year; however, I turned 65 last year, so I started collecting Social Security while also qualifying for Medicare. I was in the money for a few months, moving on up like the Jeffersons, but then right after I used some of my new money to landscape my yard, my air conditioner broke, and I spent $5,000 buying a new air conditioner and heater. Oh, well, I can't take it with me.
My life as a caretaker also followed this best/worst pattern. After she stopped taking the diuretic-laced blood pressure pills, my mother no longer fainted, so there were fewer medical emergencies in 2014. But she is still a year older, so she has more trouble walking and even more trouble thinking. Her cluelessness is sometimes funny but often disturbing and even horrifying.
Although our neighbors are younger, cuter, and more full of life as we welcomed a pretty new neighbor named Cora in September, some of the old folks (younger than my mother but older than Cora) in the hood are getting on my nerves. I discovered last year that one neighbor in her seventies has been running our lives and spending our money since she moved into her house several years ago and that the rest of us have been sheep, letting her get away with it, buying expensive new fencing years before we needed it, driving over unnecessary and unwanted by many speed bumps in our streets, paid for with our association dues. Now I have to be the lion or I guess the sheep dog, watching the board and her so that she won't continue to rule us. I prefer reading a book or writing a blog and letting other people worry about what the board and my neighbors are doing, but clearly I am the only person in this neighborhood who will do more than just whine when I see bad behavior or injustice. I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO WILL TRY TO STOP THE MADNESS!
I don't know what 2015 will bring. Certainly if we live, we will all be a year older this year, and just as certainly, somebody somewhere, probably someone not only in the neighborhood but in this house, will get on my last nerve. The good news is there won't be an election this year; the bad news is the Presidential candidates for 2016 will start announcing their candidacy, and the debates will begin. Whatever happens in 2015, it can't be much better or worst than what happened in 2014.
That Dickens phrase, which I did not realize Obama had also used (in a 2009 interview) to describe race relations in America, perfectly captures my attitude toward 2014. Politically, it was the best of times and the worst of times. In November California stayed deep blue, and the very competent, intellectual, almost-as-cool-as-Obama Governor Jerry Brown won his fourth term without spending any money. But nationally it was the worst of times as Republicans won races they should have lost while the weak Democrats ran away from this very successful, half-black President.
Economically, it was the best of times for me but not because gas prices went down, wages went up slightly, and more people were employed. I'm retired and drive fewer than 3,000 miles per year; however, I turned 65 last year, so I started collecting Social Security while also qualifying for Medicare. I was in the money for a few months, moving on up like the Jeffersons, but then right after I used some of my new money to landscape my yard, my air conditioner broke, and I spent $5,000 buying a new air conditioner and heater. Oh, well, I can't take it with me.
My life as a caretaker also followed this best/worst pattern. After she stopped taking the diuretic-laced blood pressure pills, my mother no longer fainted, so there were fewer medical emergencies in 2014. But she is still a year older, so she has more trouble walking and even more trouble thinking. Her cluelessness is sometimes funny but often disturbing and even horrifying.
Although our neighbors are younger, cuter, and more full of life as we welcomed a pretty new neighbor named Cora in September, some of the old folks (younger than my mother but older than Cora) in the hood are getting on my nerves. I discovered last year that one neighbor in her seventies has been running our lives and spending our money since she moved into her house several years ago and that the rest of us have been sheep, letting her get away with it, buying expensive new fencing years before we needed it, driving over unnecessary and unwanted by many speed bumps in our streets, paid for with our association dues. Now I have to be the lion or I guess the sheep dog, watching the board and her so that she won't continue to rule us. I prefer reading a book or writing a blog and letting other people worry about what the board and my neighbors are doing, but clearly I am the only person in this neighborhood who will do more than just whine when I see bad behavior or injustice. I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO WILL TRY TO STOP THE MADNESS!
I don't know what 2015 will bring. Certainly if we live, we will all be a year older this year, and just as certainly, somebody somewhere, probably someone not only in the neighborhood but in this house, will get on my last nerve. The good news is there won't be an election this year; the bad news is the Presidential candidates for 2016 will start announcing their candidacy, and the debates will begin. Whatever happens in 2015, it can't be much better or worst than what happened in 2014.
