We were at the beach last week. I rented a 3 bedroom condo at a resort on the beach with indoor and outdoor pools. I needed something to look forward to at the end of the semester. I also invited my parents. They have helped out with child care and driving to radiation appointments, so I wanted them to be able to spend some fun time with my kids.
On the drive down though, my husband came down with a fever that turned out to be strep. I had to take him to Minute Clinic for antibiotics on our 14th wedding anniversary. He spent the first two vacation days in bed.
My oldest was is a good mood the day we arrived, and we went for a walk around the resort and on the beach. The next day, she didn't want to leave the condo. This pattern repeated itself for the rest of the week - one day was fine, the next was not. Her eating was all over the place, and she probably felt tired and worn out. I managed to get her on the beach late one afternoon where we sat and read with our feet in the waves. It was nice. She interrupted my reading every minute with a new animal fact.
Another day, we convinced her to get in the lazy river, which she enjoyed, but that only lasted for a little while before she wanted to go back up to the room. She did not care about going to the aquarium. She did not care about going out to dinner. It was difficult not to poke and prod her too much - to let her do what she wanted, but encourage her to get out. I'm not sure exactly what the deal was. It could be cancer affecting her energy levels in ways that she can't articulate. It could be just generally being tired of us or her little sister. I don't know.
My youngest was happy doing everything. She played in the ocean for as long as I would let her. She went down the waterslides a million times. She loved the pirate dinner we went to and was generally as happy as a 5 year old can be. Spending time with just her, getting wrapped up in her delight, made me feel a little guilty, like I was replacing the bad child with the good one.
I found myself wavering between happy and sad the whole trip. I just felt off, like it was my job to make sure everyone was taken care of and enjoying themselves, probably to the detriment of what I wanted to spend my time doing. But that is just being a mom on vacation. You can't read or sleep on the beach when you have to make sure no one drowns.
My parents were also there. Being at the beach with them was good. They took my oldest out shopping and stayed in when the kids didn't want to go anywhere; they paid for things they didn't have to. But when they left, I felt more tired and sad. Throughout this cancer diagnosis, my parents have been great. My mom specifically, to the point where she will definitely try to make sure everyone else is taken care of to her own detriment. They've offered real material help like money, child care, all of that. They sold their RV and bought a second house down the street to be nearby if we needed. But, they don't want to know the details of her disease or her health, really. Or they don't want to talk about it with me.
From my perspective my parents seem to avoid being alone with me, avoid calling on the phone to talk me rather than my kids, and don't ask how I am, really. My dad is the worst culprit by far. I actually have a whole draft started about my thoughts on men avoiding grief, but I haven't fleshed it out yet. Anyway, I get that she's their grandchild, and they are struggling a lot with it all. But she is my daughter, and I don't have the option to bury my head in the sand. When they left, I crashed out on the balcony alone, and I'll probably never actually talk to them about all of this. Families are weird and relational patterns get ingrained in ways that feel impossible to break out of.
There were definitely times this week that I wished I could be there alone and just be.
A Sad Song Trying to Be Upbeat
The Weakerthans, "Sun in An Empty Room"
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