how to be good enough
I had written the first half of this 6 months ago, the day before my father died.
I never recorded it or even looked at it again since then. But, I found it today and decided it was still worth recording. Still good enough. So, here goes.
I’m good enough.
Do you know that’s just a decision you can make anytime you feel like it?
You can say,
I’m good enough at being a mother.
I’m good enough at being a father.
I’m good enough at being a daughter.
I’m good enough at being a caretaker.
Whatever your circumstance, you can just decide.
You don’t need any specific evidence.
And, you especially don’t need anyone else to tell you so.
And, the kind of good enough I’m talking about is not
Yeah, I suppose I’m good enough.
What I’m talking about is, I’m doing a great job most of the time.
And, sometimes, not so much, but that’s ok. That’s part of being good enough.
The Dinner
Last night I reached my limit while my mom and I were eating dinner with my dad.
I’m leaving, I announced.
What? Ok, said my surprised mom.
I quickly grabbed my purse, walked off, and didn’t look back.
I didn’t control my temper.
I didn’t tell myself I should stay.
I didn’t try to calm myself down.
I went straight back to my mother’s room in assisted living, got on the phone with my husband, and complained my head off.
My mom keeps feeding my dad when he’s sleeping!
She’s going to kill the poor man.
What do you mean? My husband asks.
She’s spooning bits of soup in a sleeping man’s mouth.
And, she won’t wake him up.
I keep telling her to wake him up first.
But, she keeps whispering to him.
Here’s your soup. And, putting it in his mouth.
My husband replies,
Well, I guess she doesn’t want to be a bother and wake him up.
But, she still wants him to eat.
Yep, that sums it up.
My complaints were heard. I got my relief.
And, I’m still a good enough daughter, even when I storm off.
That was the message I gave myself 6 months ago.
Letting others be good enough too
Now, I realize that my mom was good enough too.
Her brain didn’t allow her to see the truth.
Her mind couldn’t accept the fact that my dad was shutting down.
He couldn’t eat.
He couldn’t swallow.
He barely could stay awake.
How could she not see it, I thought. It’s obvious.
But, it wasn’t to her.
When my dad died the next day she said,
I didn’t know he was dying.
How did he die so fast?
I had no words.
10 years of dementia, but she still couldn’t see it.
10 years of forgetting until he didn’t know us.
A decade of losing control of his body.
Losing the skill to drive without crashing, the dexterity to climb a ladder without falling off,
the know-how to brush his teeth.
And, in the very end losing control of his ability to talk and to eat at all.
Our brains work in strange ways.
Both for the person with dementia and the caretakers of that person.
I suppose for the caregivers it’s all protection.
Denial protects us from the pain of reality.
My mother has said many times since my father’s death,
I wish I would have done it this way.
I regret doing it that way.
There are so many things I wish I could go back and do differently.
I tell her that’s a waste of time.
There’s no use holding on to regrets.
Everything you did was good enough.
Actually great under the circumstances.
You just have to decide that it was.
Being good enough is a choice we all get to freely make
and there’s no use choosing otherwise.
Take care. Bye.
xoxo Lani
