Sunday, February 7, 2016

I used to be afraid of elevators

My mother is afraid of stairs and I am afraid of elevators. We never can move far together. I remember once at a mall she took a small service elevator to the second floor and I used the escalator. We were so far from each other we never did meet up again until we both had finished shopping. It is a metaphor for our relationship.
Now my mother has cancer and one way or another she is certainly dying. I do not feel any closer to her but I feel closer to the early pure moments of the mother and child bond. I feel the memory of love but I don't feel the love. It makes seeing her difficult.
I like to say it is like adding cayenne pepper to chili after you cook it. Sure, you can taste the cayenne but it would have tasted better had the cayenne been added at the beginning & left to simmer.
What does this have to do with elevators?
Well, today at work I realized I wasn't afraid to take the elevator. Usually on a Sunday I am loathe to use it because I am afraid I will get stuck on it for hours and end up being in aYouTube video called "employee pees in elevator".
Today, though, I actually wished the elevator would get stuck. Then I would be exempted from having to visit or not visit my mother. I would be exempted from having to deal with the consequences of my choice to visit or not visit my mother.
I am no longer anxious about elevators. I am anxious about life outside the elevator.

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