Augh! My hair is too short!
That’s my great frustration of the moment. Actually, I have many more frustrations, but that’s the one I’m focusing on. My hair is thick and has a lot of natural wave, which sounds good until I get into some humid weather, which I’m swathed in right now.
It’s not a huge problem. My hair will grow. But the other problems in my life overwhelm me at times, and I don’t have simple answers for them. Planning for the future has become paramount in my mind, and I need to take some action to help things go more smoothly when the time comes, for example, to move. But it isn’t easy.
So I focus on my hair. If I could get it under control, I’d feel a lot more control over other things in my life as well. But every step I take backfires on me.
Some problems I have been able to solve. W couldn’t get my mom’s free phone set up, but we did get her (not free) cable tv in place. This done from hundreds of miles away and with the help of a very gracious staff at the assisted living facility my mom is living in. I feel a sense of accomplishment there.
The phone situation remains unresolved. She has a phone she’s paying for, but because she’s on Medicaid, she’s eligible for a free phone through a government program. We got her signed up and the phone was delivered, but she couldn’t figure out how to set it up. There’s a time limit and we actually got an extension on that, but it still didn’t work out.
Caring for an aging parent long distance is a challenge. I’ve written about this before, but it’s constantly a part of my life, so I’m writing about it again.
My mom has frustrations with her hair as well, so we swap stories. Her woes are different than mine–I inherited my hair from my dad. Besides the hair, the other difference between my mom and me is she’s being taken care of, while I’m responsible for what goes on in my life.
So I’m back to fixing my hair–or trying to fix it. Then I’ll try tackling the real problems again.
Image Credits: Bad Hair © nicoletaionescu–stock.adobe.com; telephone © martialred–stock.adobe.com
I fear diabetes. I have a sweet tooth and I know that can spell disaster for so many reasons. I also fear it for my mom, who, at the age of 87, thinks nothing of having a lunch of Milky Way bars and raspberries (which turned out to be a bad combination). If I got diabetes, I would do my best to manage it. If my mom got it, she wouldn’t manage it at all. That’s where her mind is at now.
My World With Words 
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