I remember when my Mom was sentenced to the Alzheimer's facility. I'm sure no one can forget the first day they leave their child in daycare or Kindergarten. Well, leaving your parent behind in a skilled nursing facility is a lot like that, only WAY harder. When you leave a child, you leave behind the promise of new experiences and undiscovered adventures the day will hold. Your mind quickly flashes to circle time, snack time, art time, and outside play time. When you leave your parent behind in a facility which you've screened, interviewed and thoroughly inspected, you know it's the beginning of the end. The day we left my Mom was tragically heartbreaking. She was frightened, confused and fought us like a 5 year old. She hallucinated a lot in the beginning, and her dreams were so vivid she really thought she was being attacked in the night. When seeing bruises that you know are more medication related than abuse, you begin to wonder....and quickly change your mind recalling the careful screening you and your family did which exposed nothing negative.
After a few weeks, Mom would exhibit and occasional good day. One day when I arrived I found her following the cleaning cart instructing the housekeeping team. Always being an ultra clean freak, she was obviously over-qualified for her new "consulting" task, but the fact that she was already losing her ability to talk was probably a good thing. Although Mom's speech skills were seriously compromised by this time, I'm sure the cleaning woman learned a few things. They'd give mom a duster and let her do the pictures in the hall. Of course, in mom's real life a feather duster was considered a cop out. Nothing was every really clean unless you did it by hand with a good cloth and some Lemon Pledge or Pine Sol. She was a firm believer that the only thing Feather Dusters did, was stir the dust around. I hate it when she turned out to be right! Every time I use my Swiffer, I wonder what she'd think of it? Of course, I thinks it's the best thing since Oxy Clean! (which sucks, because that came out after too...). When getting warm fuzzies about my mom it's never over the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies. However, let me smell a good dose of pine sol and I'll weep like a Italian widow!
When Mom, however, settled into the "facility" she would be happy to see a familiar face. It goes without saying that was a tough time in my life, and inevitable she would always pick up on my sadness. She would try to find me a clean-made bed among the residents rooms and tell me to take a nap while she watches the kids. She once asked me out of the clear blue sky if I needed money. Funny thing was I really did!
The point is that even though I was now her "caregiver" she still could read me like a book. She may have been wearing a diaper, but she was not going to stop being my mother. Several times she asked about my brother, Gary (who died in 1966). When she asked about my Dad, who had been gone for nearly 6 years, I responded through tears when I told her he was busy making wine. It was the first time I was happy that my Pop wasn't there to witness what was happening to Mom. It was difficult enough to support Mom while Dad was 'sick'. Had the places been reversed, it would have been impossible to give him comfort. He was always the bigger than life guy. You know what they say about the "big guys"...they fall harder. Work hard, play harder. It's funny when you are facing the end stages of your parents' life, you thank God for small blessings.
The diagnosis of my mother-in-law, Anna in 2006, with Pulmonary Fibrosis, was somewhat easy to take since she responded to the treatments so well. Even when the treatments brought on the Diabetes, she pushed through and became vigilant about taking care of herself. She got a little 'sassy' with all the steroids, but it just made her funnier. It was sweet when she would voice an opinion--especially when she was defending the Republican Party during Obama's run. Hearing her strong opinions was something she never really did up until she was older. It only proved that under that demure, sweet, apple-doll face, she was a spitfire.
Recently, Ann was hospitalized with another debilitating realization that this illness would eventually take her life. She was stoic and brave when the docs told her that although she wouldn't die from this latest set-back, this illness would eventually take her life. She was faced with making decisions about her end of life, while she was still coherent and well enough to fight. She is a strong woman, from feisty stock who lived through a lot in her life and never complained--even a little! Yet, when she was in that hospital room, surrounded by her children and grandchildren, she was still quite in charge. She was still the "Mother".
I am forever grateful to God for giving me such a "perfect" mother-in-law. She has always been the Grandma who colored with the kids, never forgot a birthday and who was always there to help. I only hope I can be that kind of Mother-in-Law and Grandma that she has been to all of us.
No comments:
Post a Comment