My mom has been in the hospital since Thursday. It is likely that she’ll be transitioning into a skilled nursing facility because I recognize that I can no longer care for her by myself and she needs more than I can provide. It’s been a devastating week and while I know I am making the right decision and honoring her in the way she deserves, it still feels like I’m not doing enough.
I went to services last night after visiting my mom. I’m grasping on to anything familiar because my life has changed dramatically in such a short amount of time. I thought being at services with the familiar faces and melodies would be soothing, but it was actually the opposite. Don’t get me wrong, I needed to be near community, especially since I now go home to an empty house with only two very subdued dogs who can sense something is wrong, but it didn’t bring the peace that I was desperate for.
It was the prayers and songs that made me even angrier with everything going on and with God. I was surprised by my visceral reaction to the barchu because all I could think was “Fuck you God, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, I fucking hate you.” Those thoughts were pretty much on repeat for the rest of the service.
And that’s where I’m at right now.