COMING TOGETHER--9

Now it is afternoon. Mom is feeling much better. Evidently the meat loaf or the chocolate has really helped her. I saw her with a straighter back this afternoon. She is encouraged by this just as I am. She is staying awake all day now and I like that very much. This has turned into a good day for both of us.

How did this happen? I think when she sleeps her heart rate gets so slow, parts of her brain shut down for the night. That makes her feel depressed and wonder why she even wants to live. When her blood circlulates, then the chemical balance in her brain brings every part of her to life, and she feels fine.

The same chemistry which gives her a remarkable memory betrays her. The only remedy for her is to get up and get moving. And we will have to go through this every day.

COMING TOGETHER--8

My mother has been lying to me about walking outside the apartment. She says she's going to go get her mail but then she just lays down and goes to sleep. I am angry about her lying more than anything.

I've thought about telling her she's a liar, I've thought about physically making her walk or about calling the physical therapist back against her wishes. Right now she is asleep, so I will just have to see what hasppens today.

I think I will have to be patient for the time being until I can show my mother the seriousness of what she's doing. It is nearly time to wake her up.

This might be our only real problem, but then that might be wishful thinking. Maybe this is typical--there is one area in which the elderly person just doesn't want to co-operate. I know it is easier for mom to do nothing due to age. I saw this with my uncle. Now I have to deal with it and it is unpleasant. But here we are. She might like to go to sleep and not wake up, but I have to get her up.

I have to get her up. She hates to get out of bed. This morning she called me 'mean' because I made her get up. I took this humorously. I had to prod her, argue with her, push her, make her get out of bed.

But once she got out of bed she was all right.

Once she gets her blood circulating she is all right.

Later in the morning, we were speaking of the end of her life. She doesn't seem to fear death any more. She said, 'When my number is up, it's up.'

Maybe sleeping slips her into depression.

COMING TOGETHER-7

Today, Mom got up half an hour earlier than usual. She looked depressed and having no energy. She cast her face down, with the look that she might wish this constant weakness and age might be over.  I wonder if she contemplates death.

I knew I had to encourage her and be patient with her slowness. So I ate breakfast with her, watching her pick at her cereal, wander over here and there, warm up some coffee, spoon out yogurt.

She finally did eat her cereal. I had to accept how slowly she does things. Since she did finish a decent breakfast, I rewarded her by getting yesterday's mail for her.

After having food in her, she perked up and her mind returned.

So this day is going all right.

COMING TOGETHER-6

I've been thinking about life. It's not fair to end life in breakdown. Life should end in summation and celebration, it should be an exoneration not a punishment. But I have no say in the matter.

My mother's body is not living, it is ceasing. Slowly but it is ceasing. Her mind is hanging in there, gradually eroding like pebbles falling from a shore, but what of her life?

I cannot judge. I know some very good things about her and some not so good things, but how are they balanced? Or are they balanced? Maybe they are summarized some other way. Maybe the good acts are seen, the flawed ones are just not, in the debris of life.

When it comes to a life already lived, how do you judge and to what do you judge? Living it over would be a strange punishment, it would be bizarre. So how do you judge a life?

You could only judge a life by a life. I can't say my mother has measured up to Jesus, but maybe it's a matter of what my mother did with what God gave you. Maybe that's the only criterrion.

I hope so. I'm next.

CROSSING TOGETHER-5

Today has been a good day. Mom got up early--for her--so we went to WalMart for a few things which she needed, including some special clothing for her. The bill was more than she wanted but she had to have these things.

She's in good spirits right now. She hasn't gone to sleep so quickly as in other days. I think she has leveled off. Now she wishes she could drive. She says she can drive just like before, but that isn't true. She really wishes for her independence but it's long gone.
She eats better around 10am than earlier; and she eats better in mid-afternoon than later. Right now as I am typing this she is in the kitchen eating her dinner.

I am more positive about her every day. Actually this has become more of a boon to me living here in this rich neighborhood than it is really necessary for me to be here. I think she was depressed. I think my value in being here is to have someone here for her to talk to and be with.

I really like it here.

But tomorrow will probably be different.

Today is Tuesday. I had to get Mom up at 10am. She had spent 12 hours in bed. This is worrying me. So I got her up, almost roughly, saying she had to get out of bed and eat. She had to stop spending the day asleep.

She did not like that. But she knew she had to do that. So I left the room, to let her get dressed without me watching her. I went to WalMart to get some food for us. When I got back, we were speaking civilly again.

She knew she had to eat well, and that I was saying that all along. So she gave me the money for a laptop, which I needed. I could have paid for next week. That made me very happy. Then she said she'd prepare some real food, a real meal. It was very good.

So after that we had a good day.

It seems Mom is depressed when she sleeps, almost wishing to never get out of bed again. But when she does, she regains her will to live. She can then go on. Sometimes she can even seem happy. But I can't let her stay in bed past 12 hours.

COMING TOGETHER
We have come home.
  After 10 days in a recovery center, we are back among our own surroundings.  The nurses are gone, the tests, the watching over my mother and the case workers have gone on to someone else.
  I suppose it is not easy to do what they do, but the consolation might be that they do not see the end of anyone's life.  They see the recovery and the leaving for home.  Then they go on to someone else.  They do not see the failure of a heart, the end of breathing, the final closing of a life.  What they see is the recovery, the happiness of family who get to take their one home.

  Now mom is home.  She is back in her own bed, surrounded by her own things on the nightstand, her own kitchen where she knows what is where.  She has her own routine.  She can decide she doesn't want to do something just now.
  The phone will ring.  It's a great interruption, although my mother does get to speak with her life-long friends. She doesn't have to face them with her fading, splayed hair. 

  She says, 'I'm just not presentable.'

  Of course everyone knows that.  No one expects her to look like a movie star, but the vanity of all wishes comes out in anyone.
  Taking care of her is all about deciding what she needs to do and what she doesn't need to do.  I won't let her be lazy about getting out of bed, putting her clothes on, answering the phone, walking around the apartment property.  At the same time, I can't be too strict.  She needs an occasional scoop of ice cream.

  I suppose everyone does.

  Why does life end like this?  Why can't life end with great pleasure and enjoyment?  The wrinkled skin that turns to broken breath is not the way to culminate a life.  And yet this is what we have.
  I think once you get to be 50 years old, you should start getting younger and feeling better and looking younger till you die looking great.
  Oh well, just a thought.