Surprisingly, I got some sleep last night. Not a lot, but some broken sleep. I woke up at 4:30 so I could take Dad to work. I stopped by CB but it wasn’t open yet, I figured. Then I went to Liliha Bakery. I picked up some shortbread cookies and a pie for Dad.
Then I went to meet a couple of new [for me] prayer partners at 6:30. I think one of them forgot but it’s no big deal. So two of us talked and prayed. It was a good time.
Nuuanu is beautiful in the morning! So is Salt Lake- it’d been a long time so I had forgotten.
On the way home, I thought about stopping at CB, and then I remembered that I had library books to return so I did that. I was going to go to the nearby Starbucks, and then decided to buy groceries instead.
A promising start for the day.
I got home around 9:30. There was a group of ladies doing tai chi or something in the park across the street. All the years living here and I don’t think I’ve seen them in the park before.
Mom was in the backyard with her dog. The dog barked at me. I’m getting the groceries out of the car. Mom is yelling for the dog to be quiet and in between that she’s telling me that the cat spit up in the kitchen.
I’M NOT EVEN IN THE HOUSE YET.
More happened but I’ll go with this much. Today, I was short with Mom.
This kind of stuff happens quite often.
I’m not all that motivated to clean, and to clean right away, when that tends to be the first thing out of her mouth. That is how she greets me. That is how she tries to wake me up in the morning.
I’ll clean more when she’s not home because then it’s on my responsibility and I can do it in peace and quiet. I’m even more inclined to clean other things that aren’t my responsibility when she’s not home. I used to clean the house also but it seems to come back worse than before; instead, my room is becoming increasingly neat and orderly.
I don’t even like Mom complimenting me when she notices I did something. It sounds sarcastic and backhanded.
And then this affects Dad. He tries his best to intervene when he can. He’ll talk to me about other things, and then he’ll kindly tell me to clean up something. And I’ll do it. Right away. Works each time and Dad doesn’t even have to give compliments, which he doesn’t often anyway.
I’ve never talked to Dad about Mom and me but somehow he knows what irritates me, what upsets Mom, and how to alleviate things.
This bugs me because I know I should respect Mom more. I’m praying. I’ve tried talking to her and I’ve tried patience.
Other than these collision moments, Mom is wonderful. Dad’s no saint so when we get into it, which is rare, Mom makes me feel better. When I bleed, she takes care of it ‘cause she knows firsthand about my tendency to faint. When I try to be creative in a crafting or sewing project, she’ll help me figure it out.
God, please show me a better way!