The last night I felt as if I talked with a Psychiatrist, and He kept probing for deeper questions to untangle source of some of my anxieties.
I woke up last night around midnight and couldn't fall back to sleep. It was raining outside. My mind started rolling and in no time I was completely awake, my body still thinking it was afternoon hours. I was thinking about all sorts of things, from writing a complaint letter against the airline, through work related things, to different expectations for this vacation. Couple of hours later, mom was going to bed and came in to check up on me. Since I was awake, she lay next to me and we started talking.
At one point we came back to the topic of home improvements in the apartment. This place could use some fixing up, and there are some appliances that are on their last breaths, not to mention numerous smaller things that I'd like to change. My mom's budget doesn't allow her these expenses. Any money that I leave her she turns around after some time and gives us in presents or sometimes just cash for my brother. Since what I give is a gift, I try not to look at how she uses it, so I try to implement personally what I see fit while I am here.
Every time I come to visit I try to do what I can, even though mom usually tries to talk me out of it. Over the last four or so visits, I installed window treatments, restructured stackable cabinets, resurfaced bath tub, sink and toilet, replaced faucets, installed shelves, wallpapered the kitchen cabinets and a storage unit, installed a new counter top, replaced a fridge, microwave and TV, framed several paintings, detail cleaned kitchen and baths, decluttered and reorganized, and several other odd jobs here and there.
This year I was also thinking of having someone install new windows in the living room since the old ones are so dried out that they don't close properly. They are not good in hot nor cold weather, and last year while mom was in the US her neighbour told her the wind blew the window open, so we had someone come in to close it. The living room is also facing the west side, so the afternoon sun on hot days makes it unbearable to sit there. I was thinking of installing the outside rolling blinds and possible even install an AC unit for that room. I was especially warming up to that idea after the heat blast I got yesterday upon arriving to the apartment.
But mom is refusing to do anything about the windows, blinds or the AC. She doesn't want to deal with contractors and mess they leave behind (even though I was convincing her I'll handle all of it) She doesn't like the look of the outside blinds, and the fact that they cannot be cleaned. The AC she is most against, because she thinks the direct air can make one sick, there are not that many very hot days here, the wall unit looks ugly, and the east side of the apartment is not hot in the afternoon so she can sit, eat or drink coffee on the balcony on that side. We were not getting anywhere with our disagreement, so we dropped the conversation about it for that night. After she went to her room, I started thinking about it again.
So, I had some kind of inner dialog trying to understand why making these changes in the apartment is so important to me. What I first realized is that I actually never lived in this place. I moved to the US before we bought it and I only came to visit mom for a few weeks since then. I realized that because I never lived here, I don't actually feel this place as a home. I don't have my room - I sleep in a room that has all the things that my brother used before he moved away, but he, too, never lived here for more than three months during his summer visits. I started thinking about people who go back to their parents' house to visit and stay in the same room they grew up in. I know there are many people whose family moved through different homes while they were growing up, but most of them still had material things in the new environment to help them make feel at home. I don't have anything here that reminds me of my childhood or any years of growing up. That realization made me very sad.
I allowed myself to weep a bit, and after accepting this 'new' fact, I wanted to probe more to realize why it affected me that way. I wanted to find out why I have such a need for control in fixing up this place, and am so irritated that mom doesn't seem to want or need the change. I realized that, since this doesn't feel like home, which I apparently didn't realize before, all my striving to improve it were not just a way to help and better my mom's life, but also a way of making my imprint on this place, making it feel like my home, too. The fact that it is not up to my standards, and I am limited, in time and decision power, of how much I can change, was agitating me because I am trying to make this place my home (it is also registered under my name). But, this is not my home. I actually have a new home now in Austin, and I have all control over what I want to do with it.
Discovering that the reason for my I-want-to-fix-it issue is the fact that I don't have the things around me that remind me of the past, allowed me to step back and look at it from a different angle. For example, if I was here visiting a friend in his/her place, I wouldn't at all think about the drawbacks of that apartment and how I could make it better. And when I then started thinking about this place as simply my mom's apartment that I am just visiting, I felt at peace. It is hers to make the decisions, and ask me for help if she needs or wants it, and I would extend that help. I am here on vacation, not a home improvement mission.
This little psycho-analysis has helped liberate me a bit further from holding onto the past, especially the material aspects of it. I felt warm and fuzzy when thinking about my home. And peaceful. My mind has calmed down, and was ready for sleep. The rain was still rolling outside, but now it was a soothing sound.
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