A quieting and disquieting thought; all at once.

In the middle of balancing my budget (particularly foliowing this latest ended affair as a career grad student) I've realized I need to make some necessary reductions. Some are clearly trickier than others: think grande soy-lattes and weekly hair appointments. They're simply NOT going anywhere... and neither are certain other costs: that of my daughter's and my mother's long-term care (education or otherwise).

Fortunately I'm only 2 or so years away from my daughters astounding-but-worth-it daycare (think college) tuition bills being greatly reduced (suburban public pk2, here we come), that is should we not give her the baby sister she's been requesting, but I realize given my parents age, and the urbane gruffness of their lives, some costs will only rise in time. Largely that of my mom's long term care. It sounds, perhaps cold to think of it that way, but I'll admit, I do, and I have for a very long time. It is expensive, will get expensive, and like my daughter's care, will always be more than worth it.

I perhaps am thinking of it most at this time, as a very close friend of mine lost his own parent abruptly. Like my own mom, his parent too had a long term and chronic mental health diagnosis. His parent (dad) was in the care of family. He was loved, beloved even. And like I've made mention to in previous blog posts, persons with more serious and largely less stable mental health diagnoses, tend to lose their lives sooner, by nearly 25 or so years. Unfortunately, this week, his dad became part of that number.

And while I sit here, nearly numb from how sudden the loss is of this dear and sweet soul (and his is a profound spirit), I also think of the woman, my mother, who raised me as best she could, and whose eyes mirror my own, and whom my daughter looks too for silly talk and kooky knit hats, one day needing more of me than she needs now, or worse, one day not being here to need me at all. And while it doesn't scare me per se, its a quieting and disquieting thought all at once. An inevitable and dis/quieting thought.

And I'll plan for it, and I'll hope for it not to come, but it will just the same.