I had a rough evening with Mom this week. She's 94 and has some dementia, and I help her shower, and tonight, she wasn't very happy. She didn't like something I bought her, she was impatient with the fact that I've not connected with her physical therapist yet (we keep missing each other), she kept at me about helping her with a letter she's been writing, and she didn't like the towel I used to help her dry off.
the mile-drive home from my parents' ALF, I felt the pressure of tears.
I've been helping my parents (Dad is 91) for five years, and I've
watched them gradually decline. Every month or so, they have a medical
issue, or a further slip in mental acuity. Overall, I'm able to cope,
but once in awhile...it hits me that these are not the parents I grew up
with. Their lives have become very small. Their memories are short,
their complaints are close to the surface. They are adamant that they
can do everything they used to do, but they really can't. I am usually
the bad guy, the one who sets the boundaries, says no, but behind the
scenes, makes sure they are OK.
I am a caretaker. I
never thought I'd be doing this, but here I am. I love my parents, and
God sustains me. I'm not complaining. I'm just realizing that as we
age and our awareness/abilities disappear, we are left with what seems
to be simply the flesh. And the flesh is weak and tired and grumpy.
parents were never like this before. They are dedicated Christians who
raised four children and buried a son when he was 23. They worked in
the church tirelessly all of their adult lives. They opened their home
to friends and strangers alike. Any loving kindness I have ever
extended, I learned from them.
The Mom I helped a few nights ago is not the Mom who raised me and became a friend/spiritual guide
to me. But, it's not her intention to be testy; her brain is simply
deteriorating. It's wearing down and wearing out, and frequently,
misfiring. This is what the flesh does. It was never meant to be
permanent. It's here for awhile, and then it turns to dust. It helps
to remember this.
will meet the spirit of my Mom again one day, when we are both gone
from this life. I believe we will be reunited in heaven, whatever form
that takes. The flesh will be a thing of the past, and we will be at
peace. It helps to remember this too.