Heart V Head

I got a massage this week. It was wonderful and it reminded me just how much I abuse my body and that I need massages on a much more regular basis. It also helped that I have a fantastic massage therapist. Kinda comes with the turf when you administer a Massage College like I did pre-motherhood. But what is extra special is that my therapist was also my kindergarten teacher. It’s not as creepy as it sounds. Once we got over the fact that she had wiped my bottom once upon a time, we became friends. And its nice to have someone remember you from your childhood.

She also has fantastic hands. And a way of relaxing you and keeping you talking about whatever is bugging you without making you feel like she is prying. She asked me the one question I have been skirting around for weeks. If my goal is to have my Nan choose to go into care, why am I working so damn hard to allow her to remain at home?

The question alone bought tears. And laying face down there was not much I could do to stem them flow. Or the realisations. I believe that given enough love and care she will accept gracefully her age. I find it hard to believe that she woman she once was is [entirely] gone, and I feel obliged to honour what her wishes would be. She cared for so many people in her time that I believe I am karma in action – giving back the love and consideration she gave out.

I also want her to be safe and cared for. So my challenge is tempering my heart with my head. And learning to cook smaller batches, the 48 meals I cooked for her this weekend has her freezer packed to bursting.

PS My therapist is Sandra you can find her here.