My life has changed over the last 2 weeks.
On October 4, my life as I knew it so far came to an end.
After 7 years away from my parents, they finally joined me here in Canada, as sponsored immigrants.
It's funny how your life changes with two other people in your space.
I cannot believe how much more dust, more hair, more mess, and thus more cleaning I had to do.
I better get used to seeing pee all over the toilet seat because at 63 years old, it's unlikely I'll get my dad to aim better when he tinkles.
The first few days, I resented the fact that I now have to share everything at my place, and for now, I even had to give up my bed. I also resented the fact that they are now old and cannot adapt as easily as I would have wished. After a few days of explaining EVERYTHING at least twice, any question was met with exasperation, a deep breath, followed by an impatient explanation. Under normal circumstances, I do not have the patience to explain the little things. Imagine that under stress, confined to sharing my space and just a general sense of exhaustion, there is no patience or kindness left to explain things that I have learned over the last 14 years about being in Toronto and being Canadian.
Just when I thought I was getting a handle of things, my dad had to go and push my buttons. It's true what they say, your parents make you, so they know exactly where your buttons are. I hardly ever cry, but when I do, it's mostly of frustration. My dad so frustrated me last night, that I cried. Not tears of anger or sadness or regret. Tears of frustration that were accompanied by hacking sobs. I can't remember sobbing like this since December 2012 when Keira left Canada after a 2 week visit, but then, those were tears of sadness.
I'm over it now. I know that in the weeks, months, years (maybe) to come, I somehow have to find a secret fountain of patience to deal with my ageing parents, their expectations and somewhat skewed view of the world while managing my own expectations and worries. In more ways than one, it is like raising rebellious teenagers. They have their good days, and they have their bad days.
Gone are the days when all I had to worry about was myself.
Gone are the days when I had all the 'me' time I wanted.
But also gone are the days when I had to cook when I get home from work!
Chin up, at least I'm well fed!