It's been a long time since I felt this way. For the past year I have been defined first by Mom's illness, then by her death and finally by Dad's grief. I woke up one morning this week, with Christmas shopping done, cards written and dinner party planned, and thought 'At last, I am myself'.
But it's not the same me as last year. I'm a more sensitive, grown-up, tolerant me. That's a good thing. I watched and learned a lot from Mom's carers. Completely selfless and dedicated women with their own families and worries, doing the most difficult job caring for a terminally ill stranger.
A good friend told me about her own struggle with her elderly parents. Her Mum is being cared for in a home and her Dad is barely managing to live independently on his own. She is torn between her daughters and her husband and her parents, and it feels as though she has all the juggling balls up in the air at the same time and is about to drop them all. I really feel for her, it will be a long time before she is herself again.