Sunday, January 29, 2012

the day before

As I walked the halls of the nursing care facility where my mother resides this afternoon I was somewhat stirred. After tomorrow I would not be making a daily trip here, a place that I have been coming to almost every day for the past ten months. Some things won't be missed, but there are people that have crossed my path here that will be sorely missed indeed.

Cute story.
 I was sitting on Mother's bed this afternoon and I asked her would she like something to drink.

 She grimaced her face with such expression and stated, "I haven't drunk in all these years I am not going to start now."

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

the fine details

She remembers.

But she is not sure what she remembers. I walk into her room and she will ask me when am I moving or on other days I can tell by her confusion she is trying to ask me something. When I explain to her that she will be coming home to live with me next Monday, we spend the entire visit talking bout it.

"Okay, I am ready to go."

I continue reminding her," Monday, not today, but Monday".


Thursday, January 19, 2012

coming home

"Honor her for all that her hands have done..." Proverbs 31:31

google image

I am like one that has reached the shore after a long swim across rough waters. The shore is uncertain too at times, but finally the time has come to do what has been in my heart to do for a long time.

I am bringing Mother home to my house to care for her.

To honor her...

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

as the world turns

It is an up and down kind of world these days with Mother.

I sit on the edge of her bed in order to get eye to eye contact. It satisfies something in both of us, something that can not be divided, a world of us.

How I miss her.

I seek relationships with women my mother's age. I find myself gravitating toward them, not expecting to replace my mother by any means, but just the comfort of women the age of my mother is, well comforting, like a warm cloak on a cold night.

 This realization first captured my attention when Witt was getting married. One morning I was making the table assignments for the rehearsal dinner and out of the blue an avalanche of extreme sadness washed over me. I was flummoxed with this emotion and the force of its strength. I continued with the task at hand, but my mind and emotions were not synchronized. Then it became necessary for me to make a telephone call to Claires' grandmother to check something about the guest list. After I had hung up from my conversation with her it hit me!  Her place was empty, the sharing of this important memorable event with my mother was not possible and her absence was greatly felt.

My world is not any smaller these days, quite the contrary. It just courses up and down, through and out, sideways and curvy as it turns on its course. I never know what a day may bring but I do know where my hope and strength abide.

This photo was actually taken back in early November, it puts real faces to our world.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

I was not able to convince anyone else to make the trip to the nursing home with me this afternoon. Being New Years Day there were other things to draw them and the weather was gorgeous causing reasons to be outside tops on the list. But truthfully, I like it when I am visiting my mother with no one else along. These are my best times of all with her.

We had to succumb to a daily pain medication for Mother last Wednesday. She was obviously in pain and telling us quite often. The key is to get her comfortable and pain free, but not sedated. She is no longer accounting for any pain, but she is so very confused and rambles more than what has been normal for her as of late. Another meeting is planned for tomorrow to discuss this new issue with the medical staff. I've discovered I must stay on top of her medications. I have educated myself to a degree and I can help make suggestions and refuse those things I know are not personally fitting for her.

Today I tended to her hands.  Mother eats small amounts but what she does manage to feed herself is always with the use of her hands, if not assisted.  The use of eating utensils has become something outside her box of know how for some time now. Her nails become quite untidy, but she does not like for us to clean them sufficiently. The dry skin on her hands builds up too and it takes some serious scrubbing to get them clean. She does not care for any of these administrations and lets you know it.

But after I had applied the clean smelling lotion, I sat on the side of her bed and with our eyes locked and both concentrating, but in entirely different modes, we attempted a conversation. I listened with everything within me to try to understand what she was trying to tell me. Her nouns and verbs might have different meanings and it's a code you must decipher first. Finally I found a common ground. My name and a *Chatty Cathy* doll I was given one Christmas long ago. I rested my head upon her arm and we laughed together, she remembered my name. It felt so good to the both of us!