Some Days Moving Forward Means Staying Still

In a previous post, I wrote about visiting my mother in the skilled nursing facility—spending time with her, seeing what her days are like there, and trying to navigate everything that comes with figuring out what happens next.

Today, I was supposed to visit again.

My body had other plans.

Today my body said, “I'm not getting out of bed.”

And I listened.

I didn't finally get out of bed until about 5:30 p.m. Eastern Time.

I was awake earlier in the day, and once I realized I wasn't going to make it, I messaged the family group text. I let everyone know I wouldn't be there and asked if the brother who was in the area could let Mom know.

They were there hanging out with her, so she wasn't alone.

Still, I felt like I was missing something.

I didn't get to hear from Donna Woods today—or try to keep up with Donna Woods. That's become part of these visits, too. There are the people I originally go there to see, and then there are the people I meet along the way who somehow become part of the story.

And that little community around Mom may be changing this week.

Her current roommate, Jenny, might be leaving tomorrow. If she does, Mom may be getting a new roommate.

Donna Woods may be leaving on Tuesday.

It's strange how quickly these temporary communities form. People enter a skilled nursing facility because something happened in their lives. They become roommates. They sit in the same hallways. They eat meals together. Families begin recognizing one another. Personalities emerge. Stories get shared.

Then someone gets better.

Someone moves.

Someone goes home.

Someone new arrives.

And the little world rearranges itself again.

Maybe that's part of what I've been watching while visiting Mom: life continuing to move even when, from the outside, it can look like everyone is standing still.

Today, I was the one standing still.

I always feel some guilt when I don't make it to see Mom. I want to show up. I want to be involved. I want to keep things moving forward.

But sometimes my body gets a vote, too.

Today it apparently had veto power.

So I stayed in bed.

Tomorrow begins another week, and it's time to push ahead again.

On Tuesday, I'm touring an assisted living facility as we continue exploring what the next chapter might look like for Mom.

The timing feels especially interesting now.

Jenny may be leaving.

Donna Woods may be leaving.

Mom may have a new roommate.

And I'm going to walk through a completely different place and try to imagine whether it could eventually become Mom's next home.

I’m not sure this facility is the right one. I don't know what Tuesday will bring. There are still questions to ask, things to see, decisions to make, and probably a few surprises nobody has thought about yet.

But that's where things are today.

Yesterday's plans change.

Roommates come and go.

People recover and move on.

Some days I visit Mom.

Some days my body tells me I'm staying in bed until 5:30 p.m.

And then another week begins.

So I get up, push ahead, and take the next step.