Compassion and tolerance

It’s quite enlightening what you learn about yourself in this lockdown. I saw a quote the other day. It said ‘I always promised myself I would clean the house when I had the time. Now I know that wasn’t the reason’. That applied to me.

But that wasn’t the most important thing I learned. I had always thought I was a compassionate person, who was tolerant and patient. But being shut in with the MIL (mother-in-law) I find those attributes are being strained. It’s not like she is doing anything really bad. I don’t have to deal with messes or anything like that. It’s the little chipping away at things that we have always done. The way I prepare food, the amount I cook, the way I hang washing, the way I do washing. How I make the bed. And, yes, I do all those things for her. The dismissive sounds she makes when I’m clearly being an idiot. 

Keep smiling, we say to each other, don’t let it get to you. Just agree, it’s not a big deal. And really it isn’t. But I wish I had the compassion of those people who work in care homes, or on a ward for those who have high needs. How do those amazing medical workers cope? Yesterday it got too much for both of us. He got mad at me, I got upset. I came right, we talked and then MIL said something that tipped me over the edge. Ended up with puffy eyes and a migraine. 

Today is better. I’m better. It’s Mother’s Day. Family came and we socially distantly enjoyed their company. Others rang and we had long conversations. These are all lovely people. I hope they have enough compassion for me when I’m nearly ninety. I hope I have enough tolerance and patience for them when they are doing their best.