Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Journeys of the heart

There is a line, when crossed, where blogging becomes too revealing of the writer and uncomfortable for the reader. At least, that is the opinion of this English-born blogger with an enormous latent supply of natural reserve. And yet, if no treacherous waters are ever trodden, a blog can be a superficial and simplistic entity. The danger of revelation is also inherent in a public blog, where such things could be misused or misunderstood.

Obviously, some blogs are created with the intent of keeping family and friends up-to-date with family news.
Mommy blogs.
I'm not dissing Mommy blogs; I love them. But I feel like my life, right now, is full of many and diverse interests, people, happenings, and conflicts, and I want my blogging to reflect that. I like to share new information, my joys, my doings, and my angst. And you, my readers, are kind enough to be interested in them. 
And sometimes you even comment on them.
Did I ever tell you?

I LOVE COMMENTS!
Anyway.
On with the story.
A story that might be better untold but that is uppermost in my mind right now.

My Mum has been here for almost four months. Less than two weeks and she goes home to her little house to be on her own again. 
Here is my sweet Mum, at a concert in the park, just because she wanted to be with me.

Come to think of it, I could have cropped out the Honey Buckets, couldn't I?

My sister and I are at a crossroads.
Our Mum is losing her marbles and 
WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THIS!

We grew up not knowing our grandparents. Most of them were dead before we were cognizant of there being such marvelous things. Our maternal grandfather was still alive when we left England, but we only met him once. Mum was estranged from him,  I think to protect her daughters from the influence of her stepmother. So we never saw any interaction of children and their aging parents. It struck me this morning in a revelatory manner that we have no role models for this difficult time of life. Add to that the intrinsic problems of distance and our dilemma becomes magnified.

All my Mum ever wanted in life was to be with her beloved Tom and her girls. She lost her sweetheart when he was only 49, at the best time of their lives. They had bought land in the country and were in the process of building their dream house. We girls were off and living our own lives. His sudden death was devastating to all of us, but especially to Mum. I don't think she ever really recovered from it. 
Over thirty years of missing him. 
Part of me is impatient with her, wishing she had found meaning in SOMETHING. Taking some of the pressure of responsibility for her happiness from Anne and me. 
But it is what it is.
And now, my heart is breaking, because I am claustrophobic when she lives with me, but when she goes home she deteriorates. Anne carries the whole burden and it is hard for her. 
It is hard for all of us.
Somewhere, there is an answer.
Anne is looking for it in New Zealand.
I am contemplating possibilities in Oregon.

Meanwhile, a friend took Mum to lunch at P.F.Chang's today and then Jon and Jenny took her to see the beautiful temple grounds and then to watch the boys at their tumbling class. 
So, for today, she is happy and pleasantly weary.

We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Old age is the most unexpected of all the things that happen to a man. Leon Trotsky.

Sure I'm for helping the elderly.
I'm going to be old myself someday. Lilian Carter.

8 comments:

  1. I wish I had some wise words but I'm afraid I'm just commenting 'cause you like comments....
    Good luck with your mum. She's a sweet lady. :)
    (Someday my mommy-blog will include exotic dancin-er,uhh TRAVELS. yeah)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh Sue - you know I'm a nurse at a nursing home, so I see this a lot. Seeing your parent aging is so hard and when you add the distance factor it's so much harder. Praying for wisdom as you deal with this.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I've kept quiet for awhile now because I know how you like your space and Nana isn't living with us, but I think her home should be here. For a few different reasons, but I suppose a blog comment really isn't the place to discuss those. I'm sad for Nana. And us.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Linds, you will have your day! Your blog is purely fun.
    Mari, thanks. I do music therapy in care homes, so I see it too. It's easier to deal with when it's not your own parent.
    Bethany, I'm sure it will come to that. It's s difficult thing to reconcile, giving up freedom when you've only just gained it.

    ReplyDelete
  5. My parents live in the same town, about 6 minutes from my house and I fully sympathize with you Sue. My mother probably has small vessel dementia (although she will not let anyone definitively diagnose it) and keeps repeating herself endlessly. It has come to the point where no grandchildre or great grandchildren enjoy going there when Grandpa is not home. Very sad really, she used to be such a creative wonderful spirit. It's still in there somewhere but she refuses to go many places (even when begged and pleaded with) and does not have too many interests that turn her focus outward. She could help me with the family history, attend the temple, etc. but she prefers to stay home and wait for Dad to get home before DOING ANYTHING. And wonders why...But, they are my parents, my father is still as loony and interesting as he ever was and this makes me sad. They have had 56 years of married life together and if either one goes, woe is the rest of us. Wade's parents are both gone now and we miss them dreadfully but they were wonderfully active involved and intersted right to the end. I feel your dilemma and wish I had some good advice, but am in need of it myself! Just know I care and am thinking of you.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thanks Deb. It's a tough thing to see and deal with.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I had a long talk with an old friend the other day. Actually she's only a year older than me and that's not old at all, but we've been friends since I was 14 and she 15. My friend comes from a truly amazing, strong family ... the total opposite of my family. Her parents are astonishingly practical, loving, and ... well, strong. There's no other word for it. I've known them since I was a young teenager and the last time I saw them was just a tad over two years ago.

    Well, for the past year or so my friend's dad has worsened with Alzheimer's. It got to the point they had to close his office (he was a businessman with many interests) and take away his car keys. He gets up every day and puts on a suit and tie, thinking it's time for church. He's been a deacon and Sunday School teacher for over forty years.

    My friend (who has never married) lives in the same city as her parents, as do all three of her brothers. Her only sister lives a few hours away. So they've all been able to share in the burden of helping Mom look after Dad.

    Except, on June sixth of this year, Mom passed away after a brief illness. My friend said she began slowing down at the end of 2009, and for all of 2010 just continued failing, and a few weeks before her death they found several cancers and it was over very quickly.

    Now the (very busy) kids face how to deal with their dad, who is so far gone now he doesn't even remember that his dear wife, their darling mother, is no longer with them. My friend is so brave and practical -- like her parents -- not at all emotional as I tend to be, but I heard the sadness and all the questions in her voice and all I could do was commiserate and promise to pray and tell her to call if she needs to talk, which I know she won't because her support system is very thorough.

    Anyway, I only have my mother, and she is 73 and in very good health and we are so fortunate. TG's parents are 85 and 84 and so far so good, except for Dad's weak heart. TG is traveling up to Ohio to see them tomorrow and spend 3-4 days. I dread the day the call comes that Dad has gone on to heaven, although I know that will be a wonderful day for him. It will just be very difficult on all of us, especially TG, who sets great store by his parents, as it should be.

    In conclusion of this tome-like comment (you SAID you like comments, LOL, and by golly I was gonna give you one), let me say that I loved your post and felt it contained just the proper balance of revelation and reticence. We are after all, all in this life thing together. We need to listen, learn, pray and help.

    God bless you, your sister, and your dear mother.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Okay, teary now.
    Thanks for post, Jenny! 8-D
    I think that almost all of us at this particular age are dealing with some form of this dilemma. Parents dying, parents sick, parents lonely, parents demented. It does help to know that we are not alone.

    ReplyDelete