Two Weeks on My Mama’s Couch Taught Me More Than I Expected

I thought I was going over there to take care of my 86-year-old mom after she fell. Turns out, I came home with a few lessons of my own.

My mom fell.

She was doing laundry, made a turn, her shoe didn’t quite go with her—or something like that—and down she went.

She landed on her shoulder and broke it.

And just like that, the calendars, content schedules, blog posts, Pinterest pins, and all the other shit I thought I needed to get done suddenly weren’t quite as important.

BigDog and I went into caregiving mode.

And I ended up spending a whole lot of time on my mama’s couch.

I thought I was there to take care of her.

But somewhere during those two weeks, I started paying attention.

And damn.

My 86-year-old mother taught me a few things.

First, Let Me Tell You About Nana

If you met my mom, you’d probably figure out pretty quickly that this woman likes things a certain way.

But I don’t think I fully appreciated just how organized she is until I had to live inside her routine.

Everything has a place.

Everything is labeled.

She meal preps.

Her oatmeal is ready to go.

Her meals are planned.

All I had to do was put things together, stick them in the microwave, and serve them.

Meanwhile, I’m standing in her kitchen thinking:

Why the hell am I not this organized?

I’m a planner girl. I love my planners. I love my lists. I love making a plan.

But there’s planning…

And then there’s Nana.

This woman has apparently been running a small logistical operation from her house, and I never noticed.

You See Your Parents Differently When You Become the Caregiver

There’s something strange about caring for your parent.

For most of your life, they’re the one taking care of you.

Then one day, without anybody asking permission, the roles shift.

Suddenly you’re watching them walk.

You’re thinking about whether they can get dressed.

You’re making sure they eat.

You’re paying attention to things you never thought you’d need to pay attention to.

And you begin noticing all the little systems they created to make their lives work.

That’s what happened with Mom.

Her organization wasn’t just about liking things neat.

At 86, those routines help her stay independent.

And that made me look at organization differently.

Sometimes those little things we do for ourselves today become the things that allow us to keep doing for ourselves tomorrow.

Then Mom Said Something About Protection That Made Me Think

During all of this, we talked about protective underwear.

Yes, we’re going there.

Because apparently this is what happens when you’re 68 and hanging out with your 86-year-old mother.

We were talking about leakage, and Mom basically said:

Why does everybody think protection is only for that?

And I thought…

Well, shit. She has a point.

When somebody is recovering from an injury or surgery, getting to the bathroom isn’t necessarily as simple as it was three weeks ago.

You may be moving slower.

You may need help getting up.

You may have clothing that’s harder to manage because one arm isn’t working the way it normally does.

You may be exhausted.

And sometimes you just want a little extra protection so you don’t have one more damn thing to worry about.

The same could be true when you’re traveling, dealing with temporary mobility problems, or going through any number of situations where your normal routine has been disrupted.

That doesn’t automatically make someone elderly.

It doesn’t automatically mean someone is incontinent.

Sometimes it simply means:

Life happened.

And you’re giving yourself one less thing to worry about while you deal with it.

A Quick Note About Protective Underwear

Protective underwear can be useful for different reasons, but everyone’s health and recovery needs are different. If you’re recovering from surgery or an injury, follow the advice of your healthcare team about mobility, toileting, and personal care.

What I’m sharing here is simply something Mom and I talked about during her recovery—and something I hadn’t really considered before.

But the Biggest Thing I Watched Was Her Attitude

Mom could have sat there and said:

Poor me.

I fell.

I broke my shoulder.

I can’t do anything.

And believe me, she had every right to have some bad days.

This isn’t easy.

But that’s not where she stayed.

Her attitude was basically:

Okay. This happened. What do we need to do next?

Let’s get through this.

Let’s get it taken care of.

Let’s get me back to doing whatever the hell I want to do.

That’s my mama.

And watching her reminded me of something I believe more and more as I get older:

Your attitude doesn’t change what happened. But it sure as hell changes how you move through what happened.

Resilience Doesn’t Mean Pretending Everything Is Fine

I don’t want to make resilience sound like some inspirational quote you slap on a coffee mug.

Because there were hard moments.

Mom was frustrated.

She got antsy.

She wanted her independence back.

There were things she couldn’t do for herself that she normally wouldn’t think twice about.

That’s hard.

Resilience isn’t smiling through every shitty thing that happens to you.

Sometimes resilience is being pissed off and still getting up tomorrow.

Sometimes it’s accepting help when you’d rather do it yourself.

Sometimes it’s doing the exercises.

Going to the appointments.

Eating the damn oatmeal.

And sometimes resilience is saying:

Okay. What’s next?

Somewhere Along the Way, Mom Started Kicking Me Out

And this might have been my favorite part.

As Mom started getting better, she started needing me less.

Breakfast?

She could handle it.

Lunch?

She had that figured out.

Her routines started coming back.

Her independence started coming back.

And eventually the message became pretty damn clear:

You can go home now.

😂😂😂

I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to have my mother basically kick me out.

Because that meant she was getting herself back.

And Now I Have to Get Myself Back on Track

Here’s the other side of caregiving that we don’t always talk about.

Your life doesn’t disappear while you’re helping somebody else.

It’s sitting there waiting for you.

My business matters to me.

Writing matters to me.

Gigi Unfiltered matters to me.

Creating videos, writing blogs, building something at 68 years old—that shit excites me.

So yes, while I was taking care of Mom, part of my brain was still thinking about the things I wanted to create.

And sometimes I felt guilty about that.

Should I be working?

Should I be with Mom?

Should I be home?

Should I be writing?

Should I be resting?

Apparently I am still trying to figure out balance at 68.

What the fuck?

But maybe getting back on track doesn’t mean pretending the last few weeks didn’t happen.

Maybe the last few weeks are part of the track.

We’re Both Moving Forward

Mom is getting her independence back.

I’m getting my routine back.

She’s figuring out what life looks like after a broken shoulder.

I’m figuring out what my business looks like after putting everything else first for a couple of weeks.

Neither one of us is exactly where we were before she fell.

And maybe that’s what resilience actually looks like.

Not pretending nothing happened.

Not rushing ourselves back to “normal.”

Not acting like we’re fine when we’re not.

Just looking at where we are today and asking:

Okay. What can I do from here?

Then doing that.

And tomorrow?

We do a little more.

Mom taught me quite a bit during those two weeks on her couch.

About organization.

About independence.

About accepting help.

About protection and dignity.

About attitude.

And about getting back up after life knocks you on your ass.

Literally, in her case.

My 86-year-old mama is moving forward.

And so am I.

Tits up, ladies. We’ve got shit to do. 🖤

Watch the Hey Stac Video

In this Hey Stac, I’m talking about Mom’s fall and recovery, what I learned while staying with her, protection during recovery, her ridiculous level of organization, resilience—and what it looks like for me to finally get back into my own routine.

If You’d Like to Support Gigi Unfiltered 🖤

I’m going to keep writing these stories, sharing what I’m learning, and talking about what life after 60 really looks like — the good, the messy, and everything in between.

If something I wrote made you laugh, made you think, or made you feel a little less alone, and you’d like to support what I’m building here, you can buy me a coffee.

And if coffee isn’t your thing, reading, commenting, sharing a post, or sending Gigi Unfiltered to another woman who might need it means a hell of a lot too.

—Gigi 🖤