In my July 2016 post titled A Second Chance, I reflected upon my daughter’s inability to continue working and need to move in with me following her surgery. I wrote, “The treasure I found is the ‘opportunity’ my daughter’s living with me gives. I am being given a second chance to extend love to her, up close and personal, in ways the immature self of my past was unable.
It is a bit of a miracle how well we have adjusted. My friends who watched me struggle in the early months are amazed at how my relationship with Nicole has evolved. I’m kind of amazed myself.
During my five months of struggle to accept our new reality, I realized that my relationship with my daughter was more important than keeping my home perfect. I intentionally let go of having my sanctuary in perfect order. That is something the immature me from my past could not have accepted.
To my delight, my daughter has worked to respect my need for order and beauty in my living environment. She is neater than she used to be and has voluntarily assumed responsibilities without my even having to ask. That has meant a great deal to me.
Then, about a month ago, she approached me and said, “Mom, if I could afford one of those walk-in tubs, would you let me get one?”
I knew she couldn’t afford it, but told her to go ahead and explore it. I thought her realizing that for herself was better than my nixing her request, something my immature self would have done.
And so she made a date with a salesperson to come talk with us. As I listened to his explanation of the benefits, my perspective started to shift. I thought this might work well for me, too.
As long as Nicole lives with me, I don’t have the option of moving into an assisted living facility. I’m not ready for that yet, but foresee the day when it might be a welcome option. The salesperson spoke about home healthcare aids having an easier time bathing frail, elderly people. That would address one of the issues I might face as I grow older.
The salesperson went outside and left us alone to make a decision. Nicole asked me, “What are you thinking, Mom?”
Later, as I reflected on our conversation, I realized that our relationship had shifted from a hierarchical mother-daughter one to a more equal partnership.
I told her what I realized about how the tub could benefit me as well. Then I addressed the issue of finances. “This is how much money you have to put toward it. This is how much I could put toward it. The rest we would have to finance. That means we would need to reduce our monthly expenses.”
Her immediate response astounded me. “I’ll give up watching the Hallmark Channel.” That is a major form of entertainment for her. I suggested we visit some friends who have cut the cord with cable and explore alternative ways of watching our favorite programs. She agreed and we are in the process of taking this step.
I told her we could make a game of saving money.
I mentioned that she spends a lot of her grocery money on snacks, that they are expensive, and they aren’t good for her anyway. She is definitely her mother’s daughter. She loves potato chips as much as I did before a stent being placed in my heart in 2005 convinced me they were a luxury I could no longer afford. Nicole has not eaten a potato chip since we made this decision. Another huge decision for her.
The hardest thing for me to give up was having the house cleaned once a month. We decided to do it ourselves and we did a pretty good job working on it together. That is truly a miracle in itself. Still, I hope we will be able to add that back in after our other cost-cutting endeavors.
Nicole’s tub was installed last week. Here she is showing it off to Jacqui, who is living with us for awhile., having just returned to the States after a year in Taiwan. (And Jacqui hasn’t turned gray. She was being silly and wearing a wig.)
That tub is definitely evidence that my relationship with Nicole has entered a new phase. We have both shown evidence of maturing in our ability to demonstrate our love for each other. I am eternally grateful for this step forward on both our parts.
P.S.: I treated her to a bag of potato chips this week. I thought she had denied herself long enough. 🙂