Cindy on December 29th, 2009
There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” — Zora Neale Hurston
For several years I’ve kept a small garden statue of a woman by our side entrance. I named her Hestia after the ancient goddess of home and family. In Greek mythology, Hestia’s role was to keep the flame of the hearth burning. This week she’s dressed in snow — and looking a little overwhelmed by the onset of winter and the challenges ahead. I can relate.
It’s been a mixed bag of a holiday in our household. My husband and I have been enjoying a week-long visit with our son, who flew in from Chicago for Christmas last week. We’ve shared some cozy meals at home together — I love to cook with my family — and we’ve made time to visit extended family, old friends, and favorite haunts around town.
Meanwhile, real life also paid us a yuletide visit. On Christmas Eve, my mother (who was just diagnosed with early-stage dementia last month) came down with another serious infection. I spent most of Christmas Eve morning at the doctor’s office with her, and the rest of the holiday bringing meals to her.
At times it felt awkward to celebrate with the rest of the family while my mother stayed in bed in her condo, watching television. And so, with regrets, I canceled out of several parties and gatherings, all the while feeling guilty for lacking the social energy and enthusiasm required of the holiday season. I know I disappointed more than a few people for not showing up in one way or another.
My mother’s doctor asked me to come in with my mother for a consultation this afternoon. As the doctor put it, we need to determine the next step for Mom’s ongoing care. I’m guessing, from the doctor’s tone on the phone, that 2010 will be a year of changes. But there’s hope too. Mom agreed, after several arguments, to take a new medication prescribed for her dementia. She adores her condo — keeping house is the thing that gives her life meaning, shape, and routine. So I’m hoping she’ll be able to stay in her own place as long as possible.
At this point in the holiday season, I’d usually be drawing up a lengthy list of New Year’s resolutions. In the past, most of those resolutions would have included ambitious career goals and pie-in-the-sky dreams of self-improvement. This year, I’m asking only two things of myself: To sustain the energy I’ll need to keep the fire burning — and to find the patience to ride out the changes ahead. — Cindy La Ferle
– “Hestia” garden statue photo by Cindy La Ferle –
Cindy on January 15th, 2008
What a month … On January 3rd, my mother nearly passed out at her kitchen table and was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. She remained in critical care on the cardio floor for a week, and then was sent to a nursing center near my home. While I think her cardiovascular issues are under control, Mom remains dizzy and, in her words, “a little foggy.” (She’s getting physical therapy to help her regain her balance.)
But she also developed a bronchial infection in the hospital last week. This bug is nasty, and a recent X-ray shows signs of pneumonia. Mom will remain at the nursing center until we get a handle on this new development. And I’ve pretty much cleared my calendar to be available to stay with her for a few days, once she returns home.
There’s a great deal of emotional and physical work to be done when our parents decline.
My mother is a widow and I’m her only child. We’re also best friends. And so, meanwhile, I’ve been driving to her condo daily to sort through her mail, clear out her refrigerator, inform her friends and neighbors, and process her incoming bills. (Thankfully, I have a wonderful husband who’s there to manage our own home, and my freelance writing work has built-in flexibility.) While I always knew the day would come when Mom’s health would fail and I would have to assume full responsibility, the sad reality of that fact never fully registered — until now. And though it’s entirely possible that my mother will recover and function somewhat independently for a while longer, the guarantee on that is limited.
My mother’s health crisis has also reopened old discussions on the pros and cons of being (and having) an only child. It’s not easy being the sole advocate for an aging parent. In theory, I can see where it would be ideal if I had a supportive sibling (or two or three) to help me take care of my ailing mother. But those siblings would have to live in the same state, in a nearby town, and be just as ready-and-willing as I am to restitch the fraying fabric of my mother’s fragile life. Friends from larger families tell me this is rarely the reality.
Meanwhile, I keep doing the only thing I know how to do in this instance — and that is to care for my mom as patiently and lovingly as I can. – CL
Cindy on January 7th, 2008
A quick apology to those who’ve been looking for a new blog, column, or e-mail from me this week … My widowed mother has been in the hospital since Thursday; she was rushed there for cardiovascular issues. We’re still waiting for the results of various tests. Meanwhile, I’ve been spending most of my time keeping her company at Beaumont. Later, I’ll be blogging about “life in the sandwich” — a topic of interest to Boomers who are caring for aging parents as well as their own kids and jobs. – CL
