Happy Birthday Mom!
Stopped by to wish Mom a Happy Birthday. Her nurse called earlier in the day to warn me that she wasn't doing very well. She hadn't eaten, got out of bed, or used the toilet. I had a sampler cheesecake delivered earlier in the day, and picked up some Dove chocolates and a gift card from Safeway on the way there. I wonder if she'll be able to make use of them.
That was a leading statement. Mom was delighted with the sight of the cheesecake and chocolates. She was barely able to sit up and that may have been the only time she did all day. When she whispered I don't think the vocal chords were involved making it a challenge. Though, she didn't talk much at all. After I got her a couple bites of cheesecake she just wanted to sit and gaze at the wall for a while, sometimes the pictures of her Great Granddaughter Madeline, other times into space, and sometimes each other's eyes. It was as if she is shutting down, or is depressed and hoping to do so. I honestly can't tell. It could be a sudden decline, as she has been holding up better than they expected when her care was assumed by Hospice.
It was a little rough to say the least, and the sitting without much to say for forty five minutes seemed much longer. I hope it seemed longer to Mom as well, in a good way. I wanted to stay long enough to be a good experience for her, but not too long for her.
She has been very interested in spirituality for a very long time and the afterlife -- since the sixties. I told her it was okay to stay as long as she wanted, or to leave as soon as she wanted. I felt a little manipulative, in my effort to comfort her. As I used key words from her discussions of telling her husband Jack, her mother and others that it was okay for them to let go.
In the back of my mind I couldn't help but be aware of my ambivalent beliefs. I'm spiritual but I don't worry about whether there is an afterlife. I'll know it if it comes, otherwise I won't be bothered one way or the other. I have that fatalistic view of all religions or lack thereof. I don't disbelieve or believe, I don't even disrespect the various faiths (just some of the self-proclaimed faithful). Something I believe Mom and I have in common. Actions matter, dogma is just words better lost in the breeze.
Well that is maybe a little too much about me. I do pray and hope Mom understood and appreciated my words. I had no negativity about what I said, and I meant it. "Mom, you can stay or not. It is your choice, you only need to please yourself at this point. We all love you. And, I love you, Mom." Not an exact quote, but exact snippets. In the midst of the mostly one-sided conversation she was saying something. "Smile!" So we exchanged a lot of sweet smiles.
As we sat I dabbed the occasional tear. I also told her I understood her fear and anger. While she was quite passive there seemed to be a lot going on in her mind and heart and I rode up and down the moods with her and hope I gave some comfort. Just before I left I got her a Dove chocolate, and opened four more leaving them on the tray in case she wanted some more so she wouldn't have to fight the tin foil.
While we sat and I sometimes talked, I acknowledged what I saw in her expression. Happiness. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Love. They wove a constantly shifting pattern, in my mind like medieval children with a Maypole dance.
When you're a child you don't know what to expect when in that distant future you have a dying parent. You do expect it to be earth shattering and profound. It is, but only for you. In reality it is mundane. It is comforting and infuriating at the same time.
Here's something a little more cheery. Pictures of her sister Louise from her visit in late April. For those who don't know our family history, we didn't know about her half siblings until around thirty years ago, when Mom was around fifty. It is still startling, how similar they are in appearance.
That was a leading statement. Mom was delighted with the sight of the cheesecake and chocolates. She was barely able to sit up and that may have been the only time she did all day. When she whispered I don't think the vocal chords were involved making it a challenge. Though, she didn't talk much at all. After I got her a couple bites of cheesecake she just wanted to sit and gaze at the wall for a while, sometimes the pictures of her Great Granddaughter Madeline, other times into space, and sometimes each other's eyes. It was as if she is shutting down, or is depressed and hoping to do so. I honestly can't tell. It could be a sudden decline, as she has been holding up better than they expected when her care was assumed by Hospice.
It was a little rough to say the least, and the sitting without much to say for forty five minutes seemed much longer. I hope it seemed longer to Mom as well, in a good way. I wanted to stay long enough to be a good experience for her, but not too long for her.
She has been very interested in spirituality for a very long time and the afterlife -- since the sixties. I told her it was okay to stay as long as she wanted, or to leave as soon as she wanted. I felt a little manipulative, in my effort to comfort her. As I used key words from her discussions of telling her husband Jack, her mother and others that it was okay for them to let go.
In the back of my mind I couldn't help but be aware of my ambivalent beliefs. I'm spiritual but I don't worry about whether there is an afterlife. I'll know it if it comes, otherwise I won't be bothered one way or the other. I have that fatalistic view of all religions or lack thereof. I don't disbelieve or believe, I don't even disrespect the various faiths (just some of the self-proclaimed faithful). Something I believe Mom and I have in common. Actions matter, dogma is just words better lost in the breeze.
Well that is maybe a little too much about me. I do pray and hope Mom understood and appreciated my words. I had no negativity about what I said, and I meant it. "Mom, you can stay or not. It is your choice, you only need to please yourself at this point. We all love you. And, I love you, Mom." Not an exact quote, but exact snippets. In the midst of the mostly one-sided conversation she was saying something. "Smile!" So we exchanged a lot of sweet smiles.
As we sat I dabbed the occasional tear. I also told her I understood her fear and anger. While she was quite passive there seemed to be a lot going on in her mind and heart and I rode up and down the moods with her and hope I gave some comfort. Just before I left I got her a Dove chocolate, and opened four more leaving them on the tray in case she wanted some more so she wouldn't have to fight the tin foil.
While we sat and I sometimes talked, I acknowledged what I saw in her expression. Happiness. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Love. They wove a constantly shifting pattern, in my mind like medieval children with a Maypole dance.
When you're a child you don't know what to expect when in that distant future you have a dying parent. You do expect it to be earth shattering and profound. It is, but only for you. In reality it is mundane. It is comforting and infuriating at the same time.
Here's something a little more cheery. Pictures of her sister Louise from her visit in late April. For those who don't know our family history, we didn't know about her half siblings until around thirty years ago, when Mom was around fifty. It is still startling, how similar they are in appearance.
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