Posted in Life, Mom

Turning “South”

What started out as a good day, actually already turned south the day before. At the grocery store, I saw a cute tiny pillow, picturing two kitties I thought could bring joy to Mom. I bought it, along with a few cans of cat food for Bember. Yes we have approached that level, and although I still don’t feed her regularly so she is not fully dependent on me when I leave, she does come for cuddles and food. Mostly, I think she enjoys the company, and so do I, it’s a win win situation.

All is still good and things are ok, besides the RA pain. I am on steroid meds now, emergency pills prescribed from my doctor last year, that I luckily never needed. Day two, and not much has changed, I’m still hurting a lot and a few more doses are required at minimum.

I finally get home after being drilled by the neighbor lady, who has intercepted me and wants to know Mom’s condition. The entire town will know within a day or two, and I know no matter how carefully I choose my words, there us also the element of making things up to make the story more interesting. I think it happens everywhere, but especially in a small village like this. That’s just one of the perks I guess. Thirty minutes later, I finally break free, so I can tend to my chores and eat afterwards. I multitask, putting the groceries away in record speed as one of the cat food cans escapes me in the giant four level stairwell. I hear it rolling, unable to catch it, followed by the loud impact on the flight downstairs. I brace myself. More rolling, and a further impact all the way down to the cellar. Shit…I’m afraid what is waiting on me. I slowly approach, and notice a few splatters on the first marble step (Mom’s marble pride) and a little chip from the impact of where the can landed. I’m nearly panicking, but I can’t lose it just yet. God knows what happened, and what I’d find on the next flight. Although the distance is shorter, and I’m not worried for more damage to the stairs, (thank God) I don’t like to go down the old stone cellar where huge spiders live. My mind is getting the better of me, and I can literally hear the enjoyment with visions of my demise. Pictures flash in front of my eyes of the can exploded and splattered all over. I do not want to spend extra time in the place of horror that I usually avoid at most cost. Luckily there are only a few chunks and cleanup is quick. I feel a few webs and I’m grossed out, finally I make my way back to the apartment, while still in disbelief and telling myself to get a grip.

But not all has ended just yet and later in bed, I’m losing sleep over the little chip in the stairs, wondering if I can fill it with silicone, some clear hardener or something to make it go away. The next morning as I leave to go visit Mom, I look, but can’t find the chip. I’m sure it’s there and hasn’t vanished, but it’s not that obvious, so why am I so worried about? Perhaps the fact that it is there, that I damaged it, that her thoughts of me are confirmed, and that I disappointed her once more. I know that these thoughts are mainly produced by my own ego, who relentlessly is continuing the effort to torture myself. I already scratched her frying pan, something that has never happened to me at home. Unreal, and I’m almost terrified of touching things, of breaking things, things that are hers and that she has cared for, for many years. It took me to come here to get the job done. I know you might think “Don’t be so hard on yourself, it’s only material things”. I know, it’s just out of the ordinary and I’m learning that the more careful I am, the better the chances of it actually breaking.

I bring the kitty pillow and Mom is delighted. She is in love with it and shows it to every nurse that comes in. I am the hero and heaven forbid I tell her about the stairs and what happened the night before. About that small chip I can’t even find anymore. She’s been taking care of these stairs for 44 years and I manage to chip them within 6 month. Overall it’s a good day until Mom wants me to make the pillow back home to add to the rest of the museum. She doesn’t want it to get dirty or touched by everyone, she wants to preserve it forever, and it’s meant to sit on the couch, that is never used to collect dust. I want it to bring her joy “now” and not from her imagination of picturing it sitting at home while she is not there. I want her to touch it, to use, that’s why I bought it. She wants to pay me to get another, to add to that collection on the couch as well. She is not planning on staying at the nursing home, and she is gonna tell me in good faith that I better get her out of there, she tells me. Things go south quickly, as silence falls to prevent further insults. I swallow a few times and start to distract her. I talk normally to her as if nothing happened, and I change the subject, I tickle her, and steal the hugs and kisses she is not willing to give me. I bring the light once more, and although we didn’t leave on the happiest of terms, we are not angry at each other. A little heaviness still lingers and can be felt, but it’s nothing like it was in prior times. Take good care of my house, you never know with you she adds, as I walk towards the door. I don’t respond much and leave in silence. I feel reprimanded and like a child. Something she does when she is still wounded.

Back at home Bember is patiently waiting to be fed. I try once more to balance the cat food, my phone, eye glasses and ice cream I’m planning to enjoy. Apparently I haven’t learned my lesson from the night before, and already forgot the can incident where disaster was striking from having your hands full, trying to multitask. I’m trying to open the blind, and pull the robe with one hand. I know I need a little extra strengths doing it with only one arm, as it nearly jumps out of the wall and leaves the blind stuck in the up, open position. I didn’t pull that hard, but I know I pulled a little quicker which has now left too much slack in the cord, and the blind stuck. I try to pull it down from the outside, no response, nothing. It won’t budge. Great….I’m on a roll…literally. I’m not happy about not being able to arm the castle (Mom’s House) a 100%. and I feel vulnerable being alone. I wedge my hiking stick under the door lock, what else is a girl to do. First thing tomorrow, some calls will be made, and hopefully get answered quickly for speedy repairs.

PS. The blind was broken already, but still functional. It won’t matter, and in Mom’s eyes it was me who broke it in the end. Maybe I just forget to mention that as well!


We are the co-creators of our life and the time is now. More than ever are we needed to support Mother Earth and each other. Together we discover and explore our unique gifts in times of strengths, in times we lean on each other, and in times when we learn from each other. This blog started as an outlet and what I ultimately called my “Warriors Journey.” It was a way to document the ups and downs of my life, sharing my hardships as well as my successes. It showcased the struggles, but more important the ways of how to overcome them. Although we are warriors each and every day, I realized that having to be a warrior, comes from a place of pain. I decided to rename this blog, and “Phoenix Rising” now stands for the story of overcoming such a painful place. My motivation for this blog hasn’t changed and I hope to share inspiration and hope, to create a sense of belonging, a space of being heard, and connecting with like minded beings who instill a sense of oneness. We are never alone, and we are unstoppable in the pursuit of what sets our soul on fire. Who I am in a nutshell... 
I am an energy healer and Reiki Master. I am surviving a chronic disease that I’ve sent into remission three times since my initial bout, 15 years ago. I continuously challenge the status quo and by doing so I change my stars. I am a believer that anything is possible. I am a hopeless romantic and I believe that true love exists on various levels. I am an optimist that will always see the glass as half full. I am a dreamer, believing in endless possibilities. Not even the sky is the limit. I have jumped off of the hamster wheel, and I am writing a new chapter. I am chasing my Nirvana to support my most authentic self. This is my story, I am that Phoenix and I am rising from the ashes. Namaste 🙏🏼💙🦋

17 thoughts on “Turning “South”

  1. My dear friend, one thing I’ve finally learned is to keep my mouth shut. About the car or the house or whatever might be going on. It is harder as she is usually here and trying to keep my mistakes from mom is beyond hard. I manage, but Gods, I so know where you are. Mom did NOT take care of her house and she finds it ridiculous I am spending so much of her money to do those things she didn’t think were necessary (the sewer and the car maintenance, for starters!). You are a strong beautiful daughter, I’d love to be able to take those hugs and kisses from my own mom. It isn’t possible. And when she does finally come home, it will be horrible. But, knowing you are there in my background is a hope and a joy.
    I’m so thankful for you and what you share. Thank you for everything.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Amen my friend, I’m learning the same. It’s terrible to be under the microscope, while all we ever wanted is to do our best and help. We have to remember that it is not us, we are just the outlet, the sounding block. Perhaps the only one’s left to direct their discontent towards. How would we behave if we were in their situation? Perhaps we too would feel like if life cheated us, perhaps we couldn’t grasp what was happening to us, perhaps we wouldn’t play nice at all. I try to remind myself of that, while I’m learning to keep my mouth shut about certain things and realize and accept that we will always have different views in some things. It’s a different generation with a different set of values.
      It was hard to steal those hugs and kisses, but I didn’t exactly leave her a choice either. Just like your Mom, she wouldn’t give them on her own. I’m not insisting for you to do that in any way, but what I have noticed is that I try to counteract any tense moments with kindness. It’s a challenge to do and sometimes it works and other I do have to walk away. But I make it a point to offer the light to her and help her back from the darkness when she slips. It is rewarding when it does work, such as our soup night that changed everything.
      I’m always here for you and I’m glad that I’m not the only one and that we together share a sisterhood of support and love. Bless you my dearest friend. Much love to you always.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Rhapsody, I think you and Kris share very similar stories of the difficulties of a parent who has lost independence. And you are such a comfort to each other.
        It is the small events that come to torture you at such times, and largely because tiredness is overwhelmingly in control now.
        You (and Kris) are coping much better than you think. And both of your respective Mom’s are hanging on to that sliver of hope that somehow they will become totally well again and pick up their lives where they left off before their current frailty. You both know what is needed, you both do what is required and you both do it out of love despite watching it get a daily beating. You can both take comfort from each other as you lament the loss of happiness of your own lives. And, you can both take comfort from knowing that this hard journey makes you both stronger. The small physical breaks along the way are just confirmations to you both that life will not return to normal for either of your Mom’s. Little signs that everything has changed. Be well both of you, and know that you are both Martrys to a common cause… To make last days count and be as filled with light as possible. You are both Angels. 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♂️💖💖

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you very very kindly. I am glad that our paths have crossed, yours, as well as Kris’s and we have walked side by side for quite some time. We draw strengths from each other and take comfort of not being alone in what many others walked before us. Thank you for your kind words my sister.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Me too. I have been doing some reading up on a few of my afflictions (minor though they are). Like RA, they can be caused by too many sugars in the body… (which causes inflammation on a grand scale). Lots of conditions take advantage and live in the lovely acidic conditions, so bicarbonate of Soda (baking Soda) can have a neutralising effect on the acids and promote healing from within. I hope it works too! 😊

        Liked by 1 person

      4. I might have to order it here in Germany and will have to check amazon. I went shopping today and didn’t find it. Something so simple in the states, now requires more research hahaha. I’m so curious to try though.


  2. What if…. And this is a question and not a suggestion….. what if all those things happened to the house to teach you something? To give you a chance to do something differently, to change your usual response? If that was so, hypothetically, what could you be learning from what happened with the can and the blind and your response? What could you do differently to change your usual response? And is asking these questions helpful to you at all?
    I’m fascinated by the disappearing chip, though. The same thing happened to me once with a car crash, a woman turned into me and scratched my car all the way down the side, it looked terrible. We exchanged insurance details but when I got home, Andy wiped it with a cloth to see how bad it was and the whole thing disappeared, just like magic. Which is not all that surprising, I have some shamanic magic on my car to protect it, it’s a lot cheaper than insurance! BTW, if you do find the chip, I’m pretty sure it can be filled to completely disappear again. Is there any home insurance on the contents? That might give you some peace of mind to know.
    Beloved, I think you did amazing with your mom when her thoughts turned to home, I can imagine how hard it must be for you to handle both her behaviour and your completely understandable feelings and thoughts as her daughter. Please give yourself a break and accept what went well, what worked better than last time, that you are moving towards a better understanding, after all, your mom did hold things together a little better than usual, by the sound of it, even if she couldn’t resist that last dig, do you think?
    In the scheme of things, bearing in mind what you did in the cellar early on and what you’ve been doing in the garden, I’d like to bet your mom’s house is looking a whole sight better now than it was the day you first arrived. In fact, I bet it looks amazing. xx

    Liked by 2 people

    1. You are absolutely right and a post is scheduled for tomorrow, largely covering my response. There was a lesson to be learned, something that needed to let go off, something that was in need of change.
      I am amazed by your story about the scratch and I will have to look closer for that chip tomorrow. I feel it will be there, but I might just be surprised in the most craziest of ways. I’m sure to tell you.
      As far as Mom and my interaction, I too feel it was much better. She didn’t just blatantly emptied her insults towards me, and although there were a few jabs, it was much better which leaves me to believe that she had regret for prior times. I can live with that.
      And yes the house is much better, but she is in denial of how bad it got and entire time frames, years are missing from her memory. Xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, I think that’s real progress with your mom, I wonder if that’s partly because soup night made a big impression on her… ? It’s not so surprising she doesn’t remember the difficult period when things were falling apart, maybe? Don’t you think a lot of folks focus on the best years and remember them as even better than they were? I know my mum does, although her memory is not perfect, she’s not lost years of it, though. Sometimes she really surprises me with the differences between what I remember and what she remembers. Sending my love to you and your mom, xxx

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Of course you are right and most will focus on the good times, the best years. Although it is the challenges that make us into who we are.
        I think soup night had a profound meaning and it was a turning point for Mum and me. 😉 Im glad I followed my intuition, listened and went back that night. Xoxo

        Liked by 1 person

    1. I am so excited about this and hope I’m able to get this here in Germany. I truly hope it holds some truth to it and I believe that these little steps of hope come into our lives at the perfect time. Thank you so much for sharing it with me. Here is to both of us and I hope it will bring relief our way. Hugs

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s