A Road Less Traveled

A road less traveled – a phrase I’ve always been infatuated with…

Can you pinpoint a moment in your past where you had to make a decision that may have altered your life. I can pinpoint several of those decisions that intentionally or unintentionally altered my path. I didn’t think my decisions were very big at the moment or maybe they were and I didn’t give a hoot back then. On certain occasions, I remember the movie “Sliding Doors”, a concept packed with an impactful dose of reality about the essence of one small incident, one small decision, one minuscule difference in calculation of timing, that changes many things in life.

When my friends pursued majors like engineering and science, I explored my creative potential; which to some Indian parents is a code for, “It’s time to get her married!” Oh, and what line up of suitors that followed thereafter. Slowly but surely surely line of events that happened or as my parents would like to think, “I followed a potential groom path” led me to continue my second bachelors. That was a year when most of my friends had decided to get married or start a family, while I continued to make conducive choices to enhance my eccentricity, a creative journey from agency to corporate America.

Just when you get comfortable, life loves to add it’s own flavor of challenges by throwing a wrench in your balmy breezy life. About ten years back, my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. After several disturbing phone calls and horror ER stories, it made more sense to have my parents move in with me. As you may have guessed it, sharing living space has multitude corollary. It started with a sense of safety and some extra-special attention from loving grandparents for grand kids (my brother’s children) followed by not a so harmonious blend for an independent woman and somewhat dependent parents.

A personality disorder confession, I have OCD!

One of my dear friend calls me “Monica” from friends for inheriting her OCD to the T! Having a set of parents share the same living space, had me consumed with thoughts and sometimes literally following them around the house with sanitizing wipes and a broom. I was in no way willing to share space with dust and food crumbs more than I had to.

My mom was still a bit functional back then, so we decided to rotated her routine among dad, my brother and myself. At that time, we didn’t realize what this decision would do in the long haul. We would often pass out every night, only to be woken up by some strange noise calling my name or having a conversation with me. Freaked out of my wits, I would jump off my bed to realize my mom had wondered off to the neighboring bedroom, which would be mine. I would gently coax her to bed and wait till she was sound asleep. I vividly remember that Thanksgiving eve when Dad and I decided to go for a midnight shopping spree and my brother stayed over to watch our mom. Poor guy, was up all night thinking mom would run away…talk about turning the tables on your kids.

As the years progressed her brain began to dim, it’s been almost 6yrs since she wondered off to my bedroom. My frail mother has been completely bedridden, she requires two bodies to support her weight for all her daily routines. There was a time she would recognize the sounds of her family members and would grow anxious when we were not around, now, we are just white noise for her. When both my brother and I were kids, mom would watch over us while we slept silently. These days while doing my morning routines, I often catch myself standing by the door watching her chest move…sometimes, it would take a few seconds and sometimes, a fearful feeling would overcome to instantly move her big a$$ comforter only to realize that it had absorbed all her minuscule movements.

Overtime, we gave in and got a professional help. Needless to say, my place is a revolving door for doctors, physicians, neurologists, therapists, social workers…and the list goes on. Yes, I learned to accept sharing space with a few stipulates that all medical personnel either remove their shoes and wear gloves. So when they ask me, “Shall I remove my shoes?” I give them two choices “your socks or my booties”.

While sipping my wine, I often reflect back to the years of my suitors – what would my life be had I chosen the much expected path back then.

I picture myself as a blond and a brunette living two lives simultaneously. One as an freaking awesome helicopter mom bonded with sheer adoration with my babies, enduring their tantrums, boogers and diapers. And another as a career woman embracing her passion for creativity.

Wait, am I not doing that as is? I am in some ways a mother to my parents and my little dare devils in form of niece and nephew. Simultaneously, I am a career woman pursuing her creative passion not just in my career but other activities…

• Dancing that has been my emotional outlet
• Crossfitting has been my an avid stress reliever
• Making jewelry has been therapeutic
• Teaching undergrads has been pragmatic
• Gardening has been fruitful labor
• Alzheimer fundraiser activists has been purposeful

Channeling my positive energy through bonds of love, my support system consisting my dear family who intimately handle mom’s medical/legal/physical necessities and close friends who whisk me away to exotic locations for a getaway.What more can I ask for? I am utterly grateful for their imprints on my life for guiding me through this less traveled path.

My path may have been less traveled, it is the direction I am on, and I choose this path of happiness and content life surrounded by love.

If you are wondering, I am still not married! As for my OCD, I learned a few more tricks over the years, by simply plastering sanitize wipes along the crumb magnets. Trust me is lot more easier to pick them versus the tiny crumbs. As for being a blond, I already had a few years of blond highlights.