It was cold. It was dark. It was crowded. The lighting of the Washington Monument in early December is a tradition in Baltimore. Many people wander over to the Monument to eat, drink and be merry. Yet, dragging Mom out of her cozy chair on a cold evening seemed inordinately cruel. So, like last year, we watched the proceedings from my living room window. The Monument lights – about four blocks away – were turned on and fireworks filled the sky. We drank hot chocolate, ate cookies and ooh’d and aah’d at the fireworks. But, I couldn’t help but be disappointed that we weren’t more engaged. Continue reading “experiencing community from inside the apartment?”
Even in a small space, there are things to sell, give away, donate or throw away. When Mom came to live with me, she mailed several boxes of clothes, craft supplies, etc. and I found homes for them in the closet or in drawers. I sorted through my things to make space for whatever she sent down. This meant that some of my things were put out for anyone to take while other items were donated to organizations helping: women fleeing domestic violence or homeless people in Baltimore or veterans who need assistance or shelter-bound animals seeking a home. Of course, some items were thrown away, having already given their all. Item A needed space so Item B had to go. 
Finding room in a one-bedroom apartment for another sleeping area was a little challenging. After fighting with the cat for space during renovations, I held my breath about adding another person into the mix. But at least my mother doesn’t bite or scratch! 
March and April 2016 were busy months, as wood floors replaced old carpeting and the half bath began its transformation. I found myself looking at the calendar, as April and my mother’s arrival loomed in the not-too-distant future. 
To prepare for my mother’s arrival, several renovation projects needed to be undertaken. The first room to go under the sledgehammer was my bathroom – the only full bathroom in the apartment. It was December 5th, 2015 … the last time I would sleep in my bedroom until early March of the following year. 
In April 2016, at age 87, my mother took the courageous step of moving from the northern New York village where she had lived for more than 70 years to live with me in Baltimore. This was amazing for several reasons: she has many good friends in NY, she doesn’t have friends living in Baltimore, she has lived alone for more than 40 years and she is fiercely independent. She also was self-aware enough to realize that living alone was no longer working very well. She gave away or sold nearly everything she owned and moved into my (rather small) apartment to live with me and my cat. 