At some point last year I read an article about generational living.
It stated how many Americans are transitioning to this type of living.
Its not just grown children moving back home but parents moving in with
their children. Money is tight for everyone and lots of people are
going back to living all together. There are so many advantages to this
but families are complicated and full of old hurts, pre-determined
rolls and love. Navigating all of that can be difficult, here's our
story.
Like most mothers and daughters my mom and I
have always had a special bond and been pretty close. Growing up as the
oldest I always had the bulk of the work. I was the one to take care
of what needed to be taken care of. Knowing that my mom knew she could
always count on me made me feel special and helped forged a bond. When I
was 18 and knew it all, I didn't want or need my mom around. During
this same time she was going through a nasty divorce and was trying to shield me from it, so we grew apart. We didn't talk every day, but I
always knew my mom was in my corner. Things changed when I was a young,
newly married mom. I didn't have many friends and my mom and I became
closer. She was with me through my whole pregnancy and there during
the delivery as I waited for my husband. Being able to share that
moment with her was amazing. As close as we were we were not with out
our issues. I wanted independence to be able to raise my son the way I
wanted and to live my marriage the way we saw fit and my mom, like all
moms, wanted to protect me and not to see me struggle. These fights came
and went as all fights between family do, and then I moved away.
When
my husband and I received orders to move to Texas I was at a low point in my
life. We had just suffered a miscarriage and I was in the midst of a
depression. In retrospect the move was really the best thing for us.
It made Jon and I lean on each other, taught me to stand on my own two
feet and the change of scenery was what I needed to over come my
depression. While it was great for my little family it was hard on my
mom. I had never lived more than 45 minutes from her, making it easy to
get together for a quick dinner or a shopping date. Now not only was I
cross country, I had take her first grand baby with me. This was a
learning time for both of us. We realized what it took to be close was long
distance. We still talked everyday on the phone and used Facebook to
share pictures and stay in touch. After just a few short months in
Texas we found out we were having our second baby so trips home were
hard to make, not to mention costly for everyone. We did our best to
stay connected but when you're cross country no matter how many times you
talk during the day things get missed. People change and grow apart.
After a few years in Texas, we received our orders to move to NY. Mom and I were still
close, still doing things the best we knew how, but by now 6 years had
past since I left. I was a different person, I had grown up. I had
found myself so to speak, and while that woman was and is still evolving
she wasn't the same young depressed girl that had left WI. On the
other hand my mom was different as well. Time has a way of changing
people, they grow and become slightly different versions of themselves.
At this point mom was having some serious health issues. I was trying
to do my best to help her long distance but with our move and settling
into the new house and just generally being away it was hard to do much
more than be supportive. About 6 months after we moved into the house
mom lost her job. This put her in a very difficult positions both
physically and financially. She had no idea what she was going to do
next and I didn't know how to help being so far away. My amazing
husband offered to have mom come and live with us. I was hesitant, all I
could remember was the last time we lived together when I was in
collage and how hard it was, how much we butted heads. I didn't want to
go back to that place, I didn't want to have to share my life and my
house. Part of me was angry that this was even an issue, that we were
even having this conversation, but my husband knew something I didn't.
He insisted that having the extra hands would be a great help and
explained that having another generation in the house would be so
beneficial to the boys. I was not necessarily on board, but Jon wanted to do it, so I reluctantly agreed.
So
in the fall of 2014 Jon left to go pick her up and bring her here. She
had not lived outside of WI since she was 8 years old, so this was a
huge deal for her. She gave away most of what she had and packed the
rest up and drove cross country to a new life. I've never really stopped
to think about how hard that must have been for her. At 51 years old
she had to pack up her life and move in with her daughter. She must
have felt angry and bitter at the situation but also blessed, humbled,
scared and excited.
After about a month real life hit
and for me it was a struggle. All those old feelings and issues came
slamming back to the front only this time I was an adult and she was in
my house. Not to mention we were both different people. We both went
into it with lots of talks about boundaries and expectations. This was a
good start but didn't really prepare us for real life. It was a steep
learning curve and I won't bore you with details, but we managed. We
learned a lot about ourselves and each other. Old wounds were
re-opened, but this time we were able to actually work on healing them.
It
took lots of talking, crying laughing and baby steps but we are finally
in a good place today. We still take it one day at a time and there
are still days where I wonder what the hell we were thinking, but you
know what, it's good. We are in a good place.
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