The magic of impermanence

The young mother fretted when she had to say no to her landlord. As a single parent she enjoyed an unthinkably sweet arrangement where she and her toddler daughter lived free in the garage upstairs apartment in exchange for watching over the plucky old woman that lived in the adjacent house. Their relationship was new, transforming on a dial from tentative to comfortable with each interaction. The young mother turned out to be much more of an ally than the old woman imagined, made evident when she started calling on her with requests. “Will you take me here?” “Will you pick me up there?” “Can you help with my new phone?”

There were trips to Costco, and to the eye doctor for dilation. There was the time the young mother kept her housemate down from a ladder by hanging Christmas lights for her. And the time she advised the family toward tenderness with the old woman when holiday pandemic plans went upside down. The young woman’s fresh eyes even spurred a cleaning of years of lint from clogged dryer vents to prevent a fire, and enlisted her Dad to install and repair the house’s smoke alarms.

Of the old woman’s two daughters, one lived local. The agreement at the beginning was for the young woman to be enough support to the old woman that her nearest daughter could reduce in half the number of visits for repetitive issues, like phone and television remote. Other than that, “job” requirements unfolded with time.

The old woman loved to travel, and when the young woman moved in she learned that meant November in Arizona and February in Hawaii. The young woman felt good about being the anchor for such travel, and aided the old woman in travel decisions and actions. She alerted the old woman when she selected a midnight return flight from Hawaii, that she would be unable to roust her toddler out of bed for a midnight airport run to pick her upon return. 

At the end of the sunny vacation, the young woman got word from the old woman’s daughter that she would be unable to pick up her Mom at the airport. The young woman politely reminded the daughter of her reluctance to roust the toddler out of her warm bed in the middle of the night, especially because the child was most often inconsolable when awakened. The daughter hung up abruptly although the young woman assured her she thought they could figure out a good alternative plan. 

The young woman rallied her advisers by phone and wondered if she’d gone too far. Had she taken a major withdrawal from the emotional bank accounts of the people she’s there to serve? Did she jeopardize her standing in her developing relationship with the family? Was she wrong to stand her ground? Was there really a tone in her daughter’s text that said, “I will have my friend pick up my Mom.” Though she was calm, the young woman could feel the sweat collect in her armpit, and doubt in her heart. 

About an hour later the old woman’s name appeared  on the face of the young woman’s phone. “I tried to get a hold of my daughter, but she’s not answering so I’m calling to tell you that I’m going to stay with my friends I’ve been traveling with at their house on Tuesday night. Will you come and pick me up at 10 on Wednesday morning?”

“Of course,” assured the young woman in a relieved chuckle she was mostly able to hold back. “You didn’t want the friend to pick you up, did you?”

“No. No one should pick me up at that time of night. It makes more sense for me to continue my holiday one more night, with my friends. See ya Wednesday.”