This Isn’t Working, But What Will?

After five months of hard conversations, brainstorming, and seeking counsel, we agreed on a move from my 900 square foot two-story house to a 676 square foot log cabin. In those hard conversations, it was easy coming up with solutions that ultimately wouldn’t work. Getting down to need and innovation, however, was challenging.

Smaller space with less to mow was our initial idea. What about a condo? No, can’t control the chemicals in the lawn, or scents from attached homes. What about a cabin out in the woods? No, they were either too far from an emergency room (more than 20 minutes) or would require a four-wheel drive vehicle. What if the kids helped out more? While they were willing to try, I didn’t see how they could do that given family and work responsibilities. Besides, one lived six hours away.  What about buying a different house? Cost prohibitive or issues, such as carpeting, duct work for HVAC. The list of needs grew as the conversations went on. These conversations felt like an exercise in futility. Nothing we could think of would work, but they did lead to new information. Every “no” revealed yet another need, as in this conversation.

Momma needs a couch. There isn’t room for everyone. But I have plenty of chairs, I thought, and I picked comfy ones that can go from kitchen to living room.

“But we can’t snuggle on them.”

Aha! They don’t just want a place to sit. They want places where we can sit with arms around each other, where kids can easily sit on laps. That requires a different solution than does just a place to sit.

We made rules. We talked until there was nothing new to say, as repeating what has already been said accomplishes nothing more than wasted breath. And then we pondered, researched, and waited, gave each one time to absorb. No one had to agree with anyone else. When new information or ideas came forth, only then did the conversation begin again.

The sons-in-law participated little except through their wives, my daughters. Their counsel was welcome. But having them speak through the daughters lessened the number of voices, and for us -- where anxiety, learning disabilities, and ADHD entered the conversation--made conversations more manageable. It kept the flow at a processable level.

And for me, since getting well and managing the day-to-do required most of my energy, the girls talked to each other more than they talked with me.

“Momma, we were talking….”

And in my mind, I giggled. Ha! When my sibs and I were trying to figure out what to do with OUR mom, how did she feel? I hope she felt the love I felt over the last few months. I hope Mom knew that we only wanted her best; I knew my girls and their families did. And my girls were doing it at least as well as my sibs and I did. My girls will be okay when it is only them having the conversations. They don’t need me mediating between them. They are adults now with their own individual wisdom and gifts to bring to the table.

As with my sibs, my girls and I learned a lot. We learned just what each could reasonably offer. One paid for lawn mowing services. One bought groceries and repackaged them into single servings, which she delivered during monthly visits. One daughter spent an afternoon re-organizing my house, and caught up on clearing tasks. They did what they could, and the conversations continued. I learned just how much they worried about me, sick and alone.

The girls learned what steroid brain looks like, and how it affects cognitive function. When I was sickest, I dared not turn on the stove because I was afraid I would forgot to turn it off. I made meals when I could, put them in the freezer, and heated them in the microwave. I also ate a lot of cold cereal. When I did tell the girls, I heard pride as the girls realized I was trying to face my issues with intentionality. They also realized just how independent their Momma is, and how important it is for her to remain so.

Then I happened past a 2-acres piece of property for sale and in my price range. At first I dismissed it. I couldn’t care for my half acre; how would I care for this? But then I saw the junipers...for me, nature’s air filters.

I inquired about log cabin kits, which happened to be on sale. These kits are salt-cured pine. Safe materials. The crawl space will be made mold free. Electric baseboard heaters or mini-splits can replace traditional heat pump or furnace--duct free, and dust free. Instead of a traditional kitchen, I will have a freezer, a convection-mic-toaster oven combo, and hot plates, plus my electric tea kettle. I will be able to make meals on good days, and heat them up on not so good days.

“And maybe you will won’t travel so much once you can camp every day in your cabin.”

Yes, new information and unstated fears still pour forth. We are doing it….these hard conversations. Life together.