It’s a Saturday night and I’m singing “I Just Can’t Wait to be King” with exaggerated hand motions in bed, while I try to distract myself from the heartache that I hold inside my heart.
It was only moments ago where I heard a loud noise outside my bedroom. I ran out to see my dad struggling to hang onto my mum as she slid onto the floor. This is because her legs stiffened so much so that it became very hard to transfer her with bent knees. When we don’t help release her legs before any transfers, it is extremely difficult to move her. Her legs stay bent and it’s impossible to place her onto a chair or her commode. Between the two of us, we managed to lift her back onto the wheelchair but even with two, it was incredibly challenging. When these situations arise, it becomes so frustrating. And I think my dad and I both feel a rush of frustration come over us as we desperately throw mum back into her chair. We toss her violently because her weight is too much for us and our frustration comes out in the action of lifting her back. Our anger is directed in the motion of lifting her back and I hate it. I take a step back and it looks like we don’t care about whether we hurt her in the process–we just need to get her back into the chair. I feel awful and then I get so scared and sad about the future of my parents and my own.
So here I am blasting Spotify’s playlist “Disney Favorites” and singing to every song I know to help ease the pain. It’s hard to talk about these things to people. I’ve been trying to heal myself from these feelings for 12 years now. I don’t know when it will end. I only know I have to stay strong and hopeful. These moments of weaknesses are incredibly hard, especially alone. But, at least Pocahontas’ “Colors of the Wind” is soothing my heart, reminding me that I should come back to the simplest of things.