Earlier this month I was blessed with a 7 day respite in No. Carolina. As we rounded the bend of what was 2021, and three years of not traveling, I recognized that I was fast approaching lala land if I did not get out of town, or at the very least get a caregivers respite. In December I asked our adult daughter if she were willing to come stay with her father, and “baby-sit” him (his words) while I took a week to clean out the cobwebs? She agreed, so I changed our joint reservation to single supplement and begin to plan how to best use my time in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
I was in Asheville for just about 40 hours which were crammed full of weather extremes, galleries, good food, tour of the Biltmore and art-filled economy stimulation. An old friend from college drove 8 hours round trip, which continues to amaze, to meet me for lunch. Additionally, she introduced me to Ann Harwell, an art quilter I knew only from social media, who had a solo exhibit at the Momentum Gallery. What a joy to meet her, and see her work in person. A very gifted artist!
My friend dropped me off, further in the mountains at Montreat where I attended a 5 day Road Scholar program on the Scots-Irish Migration to Appalachia. The curriculum was less enchanting than the music and the company. I met a variety of strong, wise, aging women, primarily from the eastern half of the country. Had I gone with my hubs, I doubt I would have been privy to such deep and meaningful conversation.
Many had been or were currently caregivers so lots of conversation took place regarding that. You know how you think you are taking exemplary care of yourself, until someone points out that you are not?! That kind of conversation. I slept well, ate too much, battled endless tree pollen, eventually adapted to the 2700′ altitude and walked 20 miles in just 7 days.
I came back refreshed with a new perspective, which took several days to appear. I decided it was time to hire a PT caregiver, for which there has been great resistance from hubs. I finally realized that he will never agree to this, and that the caregiver is for my respite, not his. I also have experienced a deeper level of grief, as his decade of Parkinson’s takes new ugly twists and devastating turns. I remain grateful for the time away, for new perspective, and for feeling all “the feels.” And I am pondering when I can go again?!
Since I got back, I have been mostly doing more downsizing. Initially I set aside one day a month to do this, but the past two weeks, I have done a couple months worth. For example, right now I am uploading a big stack of old fav CDs to my computer, then to Bluetooth which will transfer the tunes to my car. I have gone through, culled and scanned photos from over 7 albums, sorted through DVDs and CDs. I’m hoping this inspires other people here at the old homestead to consider going through their own stuff! There is small progress, in that he stated he needs new fluorescent tubes put up in his shop, so he can “clean it out.”
I remain hopeful.