Take care of yourself

I remember, after my brother died in 1990, everyone told me, “You’ve been taking care of everyone else. Now take care of yourself.” I had no idea what that meant.

A well meaning friend gave me a certificate for a free manicure. As I sat there with wet nails, tears streaming down my face, unable to wipe my dripping nose, I thought, “This ain’t it.”

I consulted a pastoral counselor who advised, “Taking care of yourself is about doing something you love.” At the time, I had given up all hobbies to work full time and care for my husband and kids. A respite for me was an hour at the grocery store all by myself.

But this weekend, Mom’s memorial service behind me, I decided to take care of me. So I got out my paints and a bunch of 4x6-inch watercolor cards and painted my heart out. As I painted, I thought about Momma and Poppa. I thought about the cruelty of Mom’s cancer and Dad’s dementia. But I also thought about happy memories. I painted abstract shapes and patterns, layering colors and shapes until I had something interesting. Hmmmm….interesting to the painter, but….

After a good night’s sleep, I looked for subjects in the abstract paintings. Two emerged. One painting shows Momma running in the rain with hair straight as a board. It’s called, “It had no sense of curl,” quoting my father’s explanation of Mom’s nickname, Curly.

The second shows Momma with a bird on her head. It’s tentatively titled, “Kill it, clean it, cook it,” a reminder of what may be a misremembered story from Mom’s childhood. So far, I’m the only one who recalls it.

I still have at least a month of tense moments ahead, including the tasks of moving Dad and closing the apartment. I also have new ideas for more therapeutic paintings.

Sue