This was a snippet of a conversation between me and my personal trainer, a.k.a. "Therapist," yesterday.
(Of course, he also said, during a particularly tough portion of the workout: "Apparently, I'm a d*ck today so you're just going to have to deal with it.")
But that's why I really like my trainer. He gives it to me straight. While I'm walking the floor of the gym doing some ridiculous lunge combo (the secret to my amazing thighs - KIDDING), he and I chat about life. More often than not, we end up on topics about which I'm obsessing. Yesterday, it was all about how I feel responsible for my parents' happiness. Again, more wisdom from James:
"Look, if your Dad wants to be a crabby ass old man, that's his fault, not yours."
Truth, but hard to accept. Because this is MY house and I've sort of imposed my will and at least SOME of my rules (not that they follow them) on my parents, I feel like it's completely my responsibility to make them happy. And I don't feel like they are happy.
That's it. I feel like I'm the cause of two people's unhappiness and it's killing me, just a little bit...every day.
Yesterday, I needed to get my parents out of the house so the cleaners could do their work. Just a couple hours. I decided to take them to lunch down on the lakefront. Milwaukee has a really pretty lakefront and I was proud to show it off. We dawdled a bit, had a great burger lunch at a beachside snack shop and then I took them home the long way and gave them an impromptu tour of some of the neighborhoods in Milwaukee. I had absolutely no hidden agenda. I was simply killing time. They seemed to enjoy it, although who knows. My Mom can't see and Dad doesn't really talk. I literally babbled for about two hours while driving through town. I have no doubt I sounded like an idiot.
Later in the afternoon, Hubby asked Mom and Dad to get on the phone so that they could apply for some Medicare supplement insurance that Blue Cross/Blue Shield of Illnois was SUPPOSED to help with but didn't. I relayed that tiny fact to Mom in an attempt to explain why she needed to speak to some stranger on the phone.
About an hour later, Mom walked up to me and said: "Please don't say any more negative things about Illinois."
W. T. F?!
That's right, Mom took my comment about an Illinois insurance company as my complete disrespect of the entire state of Illinois.
*Facepalm*
I talked her down off of that ledge and reassured her that I have no interest in slamming Illinois. Yes, I love Wisconsin and yes, it seems clear that the health care system is going to work more in their favor here, but I am truly not out to convert them to the Church of the Cheesehead.
This morning, before I woke up, I was daydreaming about an assisted living facility. I was imagining Mom and Dad there with lots of people to check in on them and coax them out of their apartment to exercise or socialize or eat a well-balanced meal. Almost as if Mom and Dad had their own personal trainer with whom to talk and vent and get a good workout. I have no idea if this will become a reality, but I can dream a little, can't I?
It's okay with me if you slam Illinois! ;)
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