I’m at that age where you’re being pulled in two directions, one to your parent and one to your child. My mom, she’s 92. She fell in my front hall the other day and broke her nose and all the bones in her face. Now don’t get me wrong, she’s no feeble thing. She’s always been nothing but healthy. Walks every day, without assistance. Lives in her own home. Doesn’t drive anymore (Thank God), but other than that, her life is as it was, as it’s been. Why did she fall? Who knows. It happens. But her fall has turned into a cascade of other things … She came home from the hospital after the fall, on the mend. But a leg pain sent us back in, fearful of a clot. It wasn’t, but there was another problem. She had gotten an infection in the hospital, a “superbug” called c.difficile, or “c-diff” to the docs. She would have to be admitted again, and put on IV fluids. She’s there still, 10 days later.
Meanwhile, pulling at my other side, my daughters have their own needs. One is all the way across the country, in L.A., working on a film, which she wrote and directed. But she needs money, which we don’t have. Which causes its own, and other, problems. My other, teenage, daughter is devastated that she doesn’t have a car. One of the downsides of living in a wealthy town when you don’t have money is it’s hard to fit in if you don’t have it.
To be continued. Maybe.