I’m tired of feeling bad for letting things get under my skin.
Yes, they mean well. But their intention doesn’t change how frustrating it can be.
My mother is recovering from surgery and it’s sweet to see everyone rally around her. All the phone calls, the flowers, the meals delivered, the visits really cheer her up. It’s good to see her happy. It’s good to see how much people care about her and want to support her.
But they’re also driving me mad.
They keep wishing her a full recovery, asking me when she’ll be better, acting like she’s not terminally ill.
Don’t give up!
You’ll beat this!
You’ll be back to normal in no time!
She’s not going to have a full recovery. She’s going to, best case scenario, be comfortable for a few months or a year or maybe two if we’re lucky.
I know they want to be hopeful. My mom wants to be hopeful, too.
But why does hope have to be delusion? Why can’t we hope for something realistic, something we can actually have.
No one escapes death. It’ll come now or it’ll come later. None of us make it out of life alive. It’s part of this whole beautiful, crazy experience we have. Why deny that?
Accepting reality is not denial.
I am not holding out hope for a miraculous recovery. I am hoping for a meaningful time with my mother while she’s here with me. I’m hoping for connection and beauty and enjoying what we have.
I can have those things. We can all have those things. Why do we need to lie to ourselves?