Sandwich Generation

It has nothing to do with Subway, great Panini, or your favorite deli. It has everything to do with being the filling between our children and our parents. My emotions are running high as I celebrate the birth of our sweet Gracie, gather the latest information about Jbear, Em and Roo, keep up with the latest activities of our youngest two daughters and their jobs, husband and friends. On the other end of the spectrum I hurt for my Mom, trying to find her identity without Daddy after 66 years of marriage. She struggles with returning to the nursing home “just to check on so and so” or “just to take a little gift to what’s his name”. Her conversation returns to those who cared for my Daddy—both expertly and carelessly. She is experiencing so much back pain, and is waiting under the influence of pain meds for her appointment next week for another spinal injection. Her appetite is very low and she can’t taste much, probably due to excessive pain medication. Since she is not a candidate for surgery to correct the nerve compression, her relief is provided by cortisone injections that last for a period of weeks to months.

It is 9 more days until the appointment for the next injection. Here’s where I feel like pimento cheese. We will be seeing Gracie for the first time and celebrating Jbear’s birthday with him. I can hardly wait! But, I don’t want to drive away and leave my Mom to face the appointment, recovery, and possible reaction to the medication. She decided to eliminate the anesthesia, and just plans to take her regular pain meds to deal with on site pain.

So, how is an “only child” supposed to be in two places at once? Really necessary places? Gracie and Jbear have birthdays only once a year, and Nannie has only one daughter. Just call me Chicken Salad.