August 8, 2021
I fly back to Washington tomorrow. I don’t say, “I fly home tomorrow” anymore. Because Washington is no longer home. I’m just passing through.
Today is my last day in town, and it’s been a pretty calm day morning. I saw L. at breakfast. I’m having lunch with T. I get my fleur de lis tattoo at 4, and then nothing else planned for my last evening. Not sure what I’ll do.
T. did two readings Saturday night. The first was focused on what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown in relation to the situation back home with mom, and how I plan to change course to improve things overall, but particularly for my own mental health. The second was with regards to my writing career. There was big big stuff revealed in both readings. I’ll tackle putting that all to paper later.
Final day’s thoughts:
If I think too long or too hard about Jeff, I feel like I might die. I won’t of course.
If I think too long or too hard about how long I’ll be in Washington, I feel like I might die. I won’t of course.
If I think too long or too hard about my mother’s rapid cognitive decline, I get very sad. It truly is the most difficult thing I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s going to get worse. For certain it will get worse. It no longer terrifies me. It just makes me so incredibly sad, there really aren’t words.
I’m not the same person I was when I landed in Louisville on July 15. I’m older. I know a lot more. I’ve figured out some very important things.
I have created new paradigms which will drive a new course. I’m not excited about these changes, because this is not an exciting season. It’s a painful season. Possibly the most painful of my life. But I’m hopeful, because at least some of my new strategies will improve the quality of relationship I have with my mother during these final years, and the quality of relationship I have with myself, inside myself. And really, that’s the key to making it all work. Fixing my perspective. And I’ve found it takes time and distance to see what I need to see to fix my perspective. This vacation may well have saved my life. It’s certainly allowed me to lay the groundwork for a greatly improved quality of life.
More later. Off to lunch I go!
The Henry Clay