Chop my own wood and carry it too (it make sense when you read the end of the entry)

I talked to Mom last night and as she suspected, she's losing sight again in one of her eyes. Although surgery is an option, it was very traumatic news and brought up lots of memories about Dad. I felt very bad for her and also extremely thankful that my sister has returned and is there to be with her.

What's ironic:

• When we were growing up, my sister was the queen of caustic. I cannot begin to count how many times G made Mom cry, lashed out, sought out her weak spot for sport, etc. Now, when Mom bemoans all of the tribulations of the present time, my sister says, "But I'm your blessing!" And damned if it isn't true.
  
• My mother had 32 years of indulgent living. 32 years where my Dad made life heaven on earth for her. He's been gone 3 years now and Mom as taken to saying "I'm just over all this stuff. I'm tired of living." To which I reply "If you were on a plane tomorrow and it was going down, would you want to live?" Of course the answer is a meek "yes". It's that she's exhausted from how unfun this life patch is. She's mentally and physically drained by the effort it takes to steer her own boat. Once, whilst I was in university and working 3 jobs, I tried to explain it to her but it didn't compute. She could not remember that the simple act of living on your own could wear you down 'til you are a mere ghostly impression of your former self. I can relate to what she's feeling now and put my own hard times in perspective. Adversity can make us more resilient (now just to remember that lesson myself).
• I recently returned from a reluctant trip to the wilderness. Although I protested loudly that "I don't do domestic travel or nature", I went and spent a fair amount of time trying to understand why everyone else was enjoying being outdoors so much. Physical exercise and spending time in the woods or near the mountains has never been part of my family's dance card. We are an indoor people. But Thoreau and Jack La Lane were not wrong. The natural beauty of the earth and the virtues of physical activity cannot be disputed. And they are valuable tools to fight the pulverizing blows of depression and hard times. And here's the final irony: I was able to vividly communicate this to Mom, having just arrived at these new revelations myself.