Another Passage

I am now an orphaned adult. My mother passed away in June moving me into the oldest living generation on my family tree. I felt great relief for my mother as her life had lost much of it's dignity and happiness. Her world had shrunk to one floor of a high-rise retirement home. Her only friends the other patients in the assisted living area and the attendents. People she had no past, or future, with.

She had anticipated her death for at least a year but her nature was to fight. I visited her the first week in June and she was still adamant about talking to the 'doctor' about what she could do to feel better. She had fallen, confining her to a wheelchair, but she kept her walker in the corner of her room, and talked about getting back on her feet. She tried hard to eat at meals to keep her strength up, even when it was difficult to swallow.

During my week visit, I sat with her at meals and tried to make conversation with her table mates - one who spoke not at all, and one who literally passed out at the table while we were eating. Other family members often came to eat with their parents and we would glance knowingly at each other, feeling helpless and wishing our parents were back like they used to be.

Then, we would go back to her room and she would nap. We made one trip down to the main lobby. Several old friends came up to talk with Mom, compliment her on looking well, and saying they missed seeing her at dinner. At these times my real mother would come out, greeting them with her beautiful smile and ever gracious Southern manners. I think, though, it just made her sadder... to see what she had lost.

She hated medicines and hated feeling the loss of control her pain medication caused. There were unexplained fears and panic attacks - and she really believed she had to watch out because someone might hurt her. Her fears may have been due to the many years her brain was deprived of oxygen, due to her lung disease. Or, they may have been due to the deterioration of her memory and thinking abilities.

So, when my brother called to say mom was gone there was relief and sadness. Relief for her because she didn't have to deal with the pain and the loss of dignity, sadness because she wasn't happy. I flew home on Tuesday and she died on Friday. She didn't give up even in the end. When her nurse came in on Thursday, she opened her eyes and said "You know I am dying," a final request for help.

The memorial service was on a perfect, clear Colorado day. The view of the mountains was crystal clear through the windows of the chapel. It was a day she would have enjoyed living but not in the condition she had been. She had been in Hospice a year. Even though she made the decision at that point she wasn't really ready. Her will kept her body alive far longer than if she had been at peace with dying.

Move on!

"Dear Winter, its over between us. You need to move on. I'm with Spring now!"
A four year old asks: What does dreary mean? We can answer - it is how you feel when you've had a long cold week of rain !! The sun peeked through for a few days last week. The temperature shot up to 70 and then... we were back to 45 and cloudy. Spring in the South is So wonderful that I get impatient waiting for it to arrive. Just in the last couple of days, the daffodils along the drive have opened and I have spotted some blazing pink Crabapple trees in bloom. It is like seeing packages wrapped and having to wait for the gifts!

Resolutions

I procrastinate. I avoid doing things; then I rationalize and plan deadlines to make myself do them. Or not. And I am not sure why. Thinking back, I've done this forever, but it seems to be getting to be more of a problem. It bothers me enough that I think I would like to change.

I don't often sit and think about one thing (anything!) for any length of time, but I decided to spend some time wrestling with this. With age and experience perhaps I can be honest with myself and decide on the reasons - and get over it! 2010 - the beginning of a decade. Good time to reevaluate and get rid of annoying habits!

It bothers me that I don't call people much. I used to I am sure. I put off calling or rationalize why I am not calling.... For example, I don't call my daughter-in-law, whom I dearly love and whose ideas and thoughts are facinating and interesting to me. I don't even call her to talk over how she feels or what she and the kids are doing. I think that is because if I call and she doesn't answer - I assume it is because she doesn't want to talk to me and that makes me sad. I know she might not be home, or might have her hands tied up in cooking or sewing. She doesn't carry a phone around in her pocket all the time for heavens sake! But, I hate it when she doesn't answer - so I just don't call.
I don't call my good friend - not often. I wonder if I will disturb her when she is busy 0r, worse yet, that her husband will answer and I will have disturbed him doing something important. She says she has the same problem. So, she doesn't call me either! I am guessing I don't feel like I am important in her life.
I don't call my brother, even though I live 1400 miles away and he lives down the street from our mother who has been quite ill this year. He doesn't call me either - which drives me crazy since I want updates on how she is doing. But, because he lives so close, he is the one who handles the day to day ups and downs - and I assume he hasn't a lot of energy to talk with me. I feel sad because I can't do more for him and for her - and guilty, even though it was 40 years ago when circumstances arose that destined me to live far away. If I call him - I am asking him to do something for me. And I don't feel like I am worth that to him. How can I do that when he does so much for her. I do feel it would be better for both of us to share this burden but - I am guessing he is frustrated with the fact I can't. I don't blame him for being angry with me.

There are other people I don't call - because I am not patient enough to have a long conversation or think I have other things I have to do. But, then I am sad because I don't have too many close friends. Close friends need to communicate.
So, I resolve to try to overcome this putting off, this avoidance, and deal with this feeling of inadequacy. But.... how?

Snow day!

Our new year arrived with a dusting of snow - not that unusual except this is the deep South where snow is a blessed and rare event! Snow days are much anticipated, yet dreaded, because of our inexperience with icy roads and shivery winds. The school kids (some teachers too) slept with their pajamas inside out, put a spoon under their pillows and ice cubes down the toilet to make sure it snowed. Their wishes were granted and school was cancelled. Georgians doned their too thin jackets and searched for gloves, then raced outside to play before it disappeared! A little variety is good for the soul!

November

My birthday is in the fall - as is my mother's. She will be 82 this November 1st. Her winter has arrived and she hasn't any more seasons to look forward to. The Hospice nurses comfort her as well as they can but she is restless and unhappy. "Why am I still living when all the joy is gone. Why do some people slip effortlessly away and I stuggle each day in pain?"

In one of his hymns, Isaac Watts penned this poignant line: "Time, like an ever-rolling stream, bears all its sons away; they fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the op'ning day." The significant people, times and places of the seasons of our lives come and go, leaving only memories—until time bears even those away.

I assure my mother that she will be remembered - and the memories of places she loved and the home she built for us will be passed on to grandchildren and great grandchildren.

The writer of Ecclesiastes is right: each season and purpose of life has its proper place in God's grand scheme. Sometimes we just don't understand the grand scheme.

The autumn of life

"There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven—a time to give birth and a time to die . . . a time to weep and a time to laugh . . . a time to keep and a time to throw away."
(Ecclesiastes 3:1ff)

This is a beautiful fall day. The kind that recalls past years and walks in the leaves with little boys and dogs. I find myself called outside just to walk in the clear, crisp days with the color and swirl of leaves all around. The autumn of life has a similar feeling - you know it will pass quickly and you want to savor each day; to slow it down and fix the memories in your mind. Winter is coming.

Though autumn is my favorite time, I actually look forward to each season of the year and welcome the inevitable, predictable changes it will bring. I am thinking this should also be so with the seasons of life.

While I miss those past summer days of my life, autumn brings its own unique perspectives and pleasures. The pace is slower and crunching fallen leaves underfoot without the ever-pressing responsibility of rearing small children imparts a different sort of joy.

I'm content to be in autumn and do not wish to relive spring or summer. Memories of them still linger—and suffice.

October birthdays

What a beautiful day for a birthday! I have always loved October days - even the rainy ones. There is a promise of cooler mornings and crisp nights. Over the years we have had October in some very different places. Today, I am remembering a hot October 8th, a few years back, in the Arizona sun. We had purchased a house with an olive tree in the front yard and a high adobe wall around the back and moved in a few months earlier with our cats. The third bedroom was decorated in yellow checks and red gingham, my old crib painted red, a rocking chair in place, and tiny baby clothes folded in the dresser. We had passed our Lamaze class with flying colors and expectant grandma was on notice. The doctor said - don't go far! At my appointment on Monday he decided enough was enough and asked us to come to St. Joseph's hospital in downtown Phoenix, Maricopa County. At five, the next morning, my water broke - but since we were going in anyway, we didn't think to notify the doctor. The rush hour drive into town was a bit hectic. All I remember is a pillow on my lap. We arrived at our 8 am appointment. Just in time - as the baby was born at 8:20 with an intern in attendance!
We were so proud - and he was so beautiful. Pictures show how very special we felt. We knew, somehow, how much this baby would change our lives. That sounds so cliche, but it is so true! We were so ready to be parents - I look back now and think that was just because we had no idea what it entailed! Today the baby is a father - understanding more what we thought when we brought him home in that air-conditioned car to our little house in the Arizona desert. He has traveled far since then - experiencing adventures we could never have imagined. He is a kind, thoughtful, creative, and independent person - constantly surprising and teaching us with his opinions and concerns. He really did change our lives, and continues to do so. He celebrates today with his own children, in the cool morning of a Georgia fall.
When they are born, and even when they are growing, you create a vision of how your children will turn out - what they will do and think as adults. And it is such a suprise when they aren't anything like you expected. Somehow I missed the clues along the way! I thought by my sheer will power I could turn them into my vision. Looking back I am sure my parents were also thoroughly surprised at the adults we became. The surprise is what makes life interesting. This son, born on the day between his two grandfathers, began his life as a diplomat and continues to smooth and calm our lives. Happy birthday.