That's what my mom always called her purse, her pocketbook.
For those that don't know, my mom had a stroke over 6 years ago. She had it after back surgery, like, immediately after back surgery, so she never really had a chance at rehabilitation. She's paralyzed on her left side and has basically spent the past 6 years in her bed. It's a hard and depressing thing, as my mother is not the most "at peace" person, in any way.
Today I had to take her to release the last of her money, the whole thing is a nightmare.
But we went to lunch afterward and I pulled out her purse and it just breaks my heart. It's the last remnant of "mom" that I have. Her purse is a time capsule of sorts. It is her life interrupted. There are keys and receipts and a driver's license long since expired. There are notes with her handwriting on them and
My mother continues to be an incredibly conflicting force in my life. I'm thankful she's here and curse whatever deity there is for making her stay here, in a bed, in an old folks home, for 6 years.
So to all the caregivers out there, I don't know, I'm sorry? Get through it? This sucks? Find some peace? Live a different kind of life? Don't feel guilty about feeling guilty?
I guess just love the person as much as is possible, live your life as much as is possible and enjoy every freaking moment because you never know when someone is going to see your whole life through your pocketbook.