I am one of those people, who paid off the 30 year mortgage. Two houses on one lot. And today, landlord obligations and neighbor have me hobbling over on sprained ankle to see about some new posts for the fence, something I can do and not leave to my property managers. Met up with my fellow construction and development project manager friend from my last job, over the weekend, at music event, where I got to note I was doing pretty well since mental health drafted me, and had this little project to attend to. And, while I’m at it, take care of fence post here where I live at mom’s house, also paid off, as part of my rent. Taking 38 days off due to injury on some of the household projects has taken its toll on my room, the garage/studio, yard work. I still managed to get us to the store for groceries, strained the ankle again to get the car fixed walking to from the 1.0 miles to the shop as part of my physical therapy. Festival has new rule, no volunteers or crew over 55 on ladders….
Life here at the garage studio, laundry room office, dining room gallery is pretty good. Shows the expansion of my range living here at Mom’s house, where it started with just the spare bedroom. I hadn’t wanted to move in, but was prevailed upon to do so in 2001 due to problems with bipolar. When I lecture on mental health recovery, some of what I get into is “other people’s problems” That’s a big part of mental health, including how you live with others, get through to family that you can still do things, actually getting better. You learn to teach them how to notice, as you learn to notice that same thing yourself. . I’ve been lucky though, moving in with mom, may not be ideal in my vision, but the tradeoff has worked out as we’ve lived now over a decade with it. My house gets the rent I needed to pay off the mortgage and pay my bills, and I was here for mom’s heart attack and adjustments to her life in the octogenarian age group. She quit driving a couple years ago. Glad my girlfriend took it upon herself to get us over the staying over at mom’s house, as she credited with saving mom’s life with the cardiac 911 call.
With my sprained ankle done falling off a ladder at a festival, I was unable to get some my festival volunteers to pay attention to some things they needed to do for me, vis a vis the injury, and what needed to get done I couldn’t get done. And I had to remember they’d never done these tasks before. This gave me some insight into some things I know frustrate my mother. Interesting with the injury, to have to use the walker for while, the cane, the handrails, go slow, and racing each other on canes around Savemart, gives me a new appreciation for the ADA handrails and standards I built into our projects, and leaves little sympathy for Ripon and Manteca on the lawsuits they have going on. I am sympathetic to the onerous penalties, but in each case the standards clearly not done and I’ve been out of the business over 13 years and had 20 years of standards to build to before that, and so this should have been accomplished so lawyers not feed off it.
The routine here, is I get up, make the coffee, read the newspaper, let 2 cats in and out, and then mom up for coffee, and cereal, read the paper, and the two feline vultures descend and wait on the cereal bowl, Cindy first, and always leaves a little bit for Sam. Then Cindy is back up on the couch, taps mom on the shoulder while staring at the Modesto Bee, signal for treats, and always from Mom’s left side. To the right on the floor Sam awaits patiently, and the split of Whiska’s treats thrown, usually in equal quantity, after mom takes her pills. Routine every morning. At night, they know with the first glass of red wine for the cardiac patient, same routine. I’m lucky to live here, return the favor when I couldn’t do it for depression reasons, to try and keep the household afloat. But understand the annoyance on healing time warning of “at your age” yet to be 60, healing would take longer and watch for clots. Understand how my dad felt at near same age to be listed “elderly” at 61 on his cardiac evaluation from the set of heart attacks that knocked a 220 pound man to 125 at death at young age of 62. The evaluation to see if my former CEO and Stanford MBA who had worked since childhood could get a smidgen of his SSA benefit before early retirement eligibility at 62. He collected 8 months. I am currently on a diet, not just ankle rehab.