How it started.

It all started thirteen years ago, just as I had decided to go for an English Master so that I could teach English as a Second Language.  On august 23^rd, my father died, leaving my mother in a Retirement Facility called the Carriage Club.  They had lived there for three years, as my father’s health deteriorated.  At this time, I lived with my son, Michael, in a 3 bedroom apartment nearby. My mother and I soon decided that it would be more economical if we lived together and shared expenses.  Sela would take care of the mortgage and I would pay the expenses.  Michael was going to school at the time, but also had a part time job, so he helped as much as he could too.  We found a house in Southwest Charlotte with a master bedroom downstairs and a bonus room where Michael could have his domain.  As big as the garage downstairs, we accommodated my dad’s made to order bookcases, and Michael fitted his 75 gallon tropical fish tank on the living part of the bedroom.  We brought along our miniature Dachshund Otto, who since then has been Sela’s constant companion and escort, except for bedtime, reserved only for me.

Otto and Sela, December, 2000.

Life was simple, but I had too much to do, taking care of everything, paying bills, etc…  My mother was very sad having been with my father for fifty five years.  I wanted to be with her, and finally have a chance to enjoy her company.  She had been totally absorbed in my father ever since I can remember.   I decided to stop working and the ESL dream flew out the window effortlessly, for I was tired of teaching in the crowded schools.  I started tutoring in Spanish, first elementary students, and then a friend recommended I tried the high school students that were not doing well.  Slowly, I let go of the little ones, and concentrated only on the teenagers and twins whose mother was homeschooling them, and who have been with me since they were six years old.

Beginnings are always tedious but necessary.  Now you know how this came to be.  At the start my mother still volunteered at Presbyterian Hospital and went out with her friends.  I did the same, and even took the odd trip to the mountains and the beach.  We enjoyed living together, for my mom and I have always had the same tastes in movies and books, gardening and cooking, and most precious of all, the same way of finding humor even in the most adverse of circumstances.   Eventually, my mother’s arthritis prevented her work as a volunteer and she started having much pain and discomfort.  Even though everyone advised her on getting a knee replacement, which wouldn’t have been a major issue in her seventies and early eighties, she did not find enough courage to have it done.   So, from a cane, she went to a walker and lately to a scooter, when the pain is unbearable.  Michael moved away and has since married, and in his room, I have found a great nook for classes.  

 I’ve always known that taking care of my mother would be no easy task when she became dependent on me.  I’ve never been one to plan ahead and give the future much thought, so I did not prepared for it.I will then use this new thing called a blog not only to vent my frustrations, but also to record what has become an adventure, a trip, not a burden or a duty.   Life with Sela has never been dull, caring for Sela never been routine.  Somehow we find, at the end of the day, something to laugh about.  We both share mutual feelings of compassion, patience, tolerance and love, mixed with frustration, sadness, loneliness and fear.  Getting old together, we have found comfort in each other, I am lucky that she has shown me the way.