My last post was titled Feet in Two Worlds, in which I contemplated the feelings we may experience when we are faced with choosing between two positions, and then asking if can we stand on both sides.
As I’ve pondered the “two worlds” these past few weeks, I started thinking about it in a different way. Like a lot of other things, it can be multifaceted.
My thoughts then traveled to the complexities of growing up and parent/child roles.
I remember I couldn’t wait to be an adult. I was excited to move out and start my own life, make my own decisions. I thought I was so grown up. But when things got stressful, there were times I wanted to go back home and have my parents tell me I should do. I felt torn between my desire to be an adult and prove myself and at the same time wanting the simplicity of being taken care of.
Several decades later it felt like my feet were in two worlds again. This is a place others have been, and many still are.
While yet a child to my mom, I was, along with my siblings, overseeing and even making many decisions for her. Her cognitive decline was slow, so slow it took us a long time to recognize it.
Where I found myself back then was being that child, yet in many ways being more like a parent to my mom. I missed her and the way life was when she was there to turn to for advice and comfort. I remember feeling like I wanted to run from that world, the place where I longed to be a young girl again and have my mom as my confidante and advisor, when in actuality I was now the “grown up” in our relationship. She was still my mom, and yet she wasn’t.
That is where I stayed. With my feet planted in both of those worlds. And while living in that dual space wasn’t easy, I was honored to give that love back to her.
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