Freedom

View from the airplane window over the Twin Cities

My brother drove me to the airport in his big truck. This is the guy who once told me his philosophy was to stay calm unless the parole officer was on the porch asking for a cheek swab. "So," he said, "P and I have been joking that we should have you sign a contract to say that you're really coming back to get Mom in two months." He laughed nervously.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'll be back." And then I mimed holding the phone to my ear. "Who?" I said. "Who?" He laughed a bigger laugh. I waved good-bye and walked away.

Freedom feels....like freedom. Yep. Just like freedom. As big as the sky. But I love my mom and I do want her back. The caregiving gig is not easy, but I am absolutely thankful I can take care of her, and I do not want her in a nursing home. And I am humbled by people who've been caregivers for years and years and years. My friend Elizabeth just won THIS award. Caregifted actually provides several days of respite for caregivers who've been caring for someone for a decade or more. So if you've found my blog because you're a caregiver  too, check out Caregifted.

"Freedom, Heyday! Heyday, Freedom! Freedom, freedom, heyday!" --Caliban, "The Tempest" by William Shakespeare

prisoners

Oddly, when C met me at the airport in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, we were both wearing striped shirts like old-timey prisoners. She told me (always the authority on fashion) that prisons might be going back to the stripes because Orange is the New Black has made the orange outfits fashionable.

"We are all just prisoners here of our own device--"  "Hotel California" by the Eagles.

I'm miss quote-y, aren't I?
And who are you tonight?