Reminders

Once in awhile, purely by chance, I will see an older man or woman who remind me of my father or mother.

This past week, it happened again.  Bill and I stopped at our local for drinks after work.  We were chatting and I looked up to see a woman about my Mom's age eating at a booth across the room.  It wasn't that she looked closely like my Mom (although she did, somewhat); it was more about her demeanor, how she glanced, and her eyes.  I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion I didn't realize was so close to the surface. I looked away immediately so as not to make eye contact, not to mention it was uncomfortable.  At this point it still hadn't dawned on me why it had hit me so hard.

My Mom (2001)

As  Bill and I continued to talk about our day, I would every-so-often look up towards the woman.  It eventually dawned on me where the emotion was coming from and why.  Another wave of emotion flooded my body and this time my eyes fought back tears. My internal dialogue went something like, "Mom, I wish so much you were here.  I miss you far more than I ever realized I would.  I remember you talking to me many times over the years about how you missed Grandpa, then later your own Mom, Grandma.  I thought I understood then.  I had no clue.  But I do now..."

I don't think missing my parents will ever go away.  But then, I don't want it to.

Gone one year

Mom has been gone one year Aug. 13th. In May we took her Cremains back to Bemidji, Minn. to bury them with my father. Been a long haul watching her mind deteriorate with dementia but have now come to the end of the road. Goodybye Mom, I love you. Delphine

Family Secrets

Three sisters paralyzed by family secrets.

In the midst of struggling to overcome her self-destructive behaviour, the youngest sister, Agnes, returns home determined to confront the past in a community built on avoiding it. Her quest sets in motion a chain of events that allows the sisters each in their own way to re-connect with the world and one another.

Set in post-industrial Cape Breton, Marion Bridge is a story of poignant humor and drama. A quiet but powerful story, I really identified on so many levels to all of the characters in one way or another...

Legacy

I realized long ago that my mother, like it or not, has been the greatest influence on my life. My very first memories are of waking to her voice, of hearing her whistling in the early morning air. I struggled to climb to the edge of my bedroom window to see who made this wonderful sound; as my eyes peeked over the windowsill, I searched down the roofline and saw my mother moving along the clothesline, bright in the morning sun, the underwear and sheets blowing in the breeze. Her tunes - sometimes (what would come to be) a familiar hymn, sometimes an "Irish scat" - faded and resounded on the wind. I called out to her, and she would look up and say, “Well, good morning, Patricia Kaye!” I think back to those moments, and now they seem almost surreal, even though I know they happened.

I grew up in a village tucked away in northwestern Minnesota called St. Vincent. My house was the house my grandparents built, the same house my mother grew up in. At one time, my grandmother ran a maternity home in it; she, a strong-willed Irish woman, along with a Scot - a real-life Dr. Quinn named Dr. Ada Wallace - provided healthcare for women in the early part of this century. Out of this, my mother was given a strong sense of self and the value of hard work. The shelves of books in our home and my mother’s love of imagination and story instilled in me a lifelong love of
the same.

Yet, there’s always been a melancholy side to it all - call it the ‘other’ Curse of the Irish - but there’s always been a spirit of tension, of frustration, of anger. It’s as if we’ve all felt there’s more, or at least that there should be more, but we’re not quite able to get it, or do it, or get there...And because we’re not, we sometimes lash out at the very people we love the most. That very thing - that anger - that my mother and her mother before her, have passed down to me as a sort of legacy, I have in turn passed to my own daughter. The love between women in my family are simultaneously filled with affection and warmth, as well as an underlying
anger.

My mother, daughter of a woman on her own since age 13, gave me a strong sense of who I am, of who I can be - and part of that is the mystery of our anger, something none of us has quite figured out, but each has come to make her peace with in her own way. It has been the great motivator in my life, this imperfection we share, this humanity...

Hospice

Mom was in hospice the last months of her life. It made a great deal of difference to her quality of life, and it was such a blessing to see her more calm and out of pain. After she passed away, I told people who asked to please give to the hospice...

Passing of an Era

My dear aunt, Aunt Pat, has died.

I deeply loved Aunt Pat and Uncle John, having spent many a weekend with them either in St. Vincent or Bemidji, and later on a bit in New Mexico. My memories will always be of a smart, capable, FUN lady who was warm and loving in her own unique way. She was an inspiration to me of living life to the fullest - friends and good times - what else is there?

Sex and the Older Adult

Why are nursing-home administrators so queasy about sexual expression? They're afraid of getting sued. An estimated 50 percent of elderly residents suffer from some degree of Alzheimer's disease or dementia, which, depending on its severity, can make them confused, forgetful, or unaware of their own behavior. Even in the best cases, many of these patients may not be able to provide clear consent to a sexual advance.

So what happens when one of these patients with dementia starts sleeping around? According to federal law, nursing-home residents are guaranteed some small degree of privacy, as well as the right to "psychosocial well-being"—which can be taken to include free sexual expression. The administrator must balance these rights with the possibility that the patient isn't able to consent to sex at all, and that his every encounter amounts to an elder version of gray rape.

How can doctors make it easier for their patients to have safe, fulfilling sex in their twilight years? To begin with, they might allow sex between two seemingly willing residents with dementia, in the same way that "age gap" laws allow for consensual sex between age-matched teenagers. Nursing homes might also consider formal exceptions to the consent rules for spouses or long-term partners. Perhaps the safest solution would be to encourage residents to designate a "sexual guardian" in advance of their cognitive decline. That person—whether a spouse, a friend, or a close relative—could serve as the elder-sex cop, or elder-sex partner, for their loved one.

- From Naughty Nursing Homes: Is it time to let the elderly have more sex? by By Daniel Engber

Harriet, Second from the Right

Serving at a friend's wedding reception; her sister Clara is on the left...

Fuzzy Wuzzy

My Mom taught me what I thought was a tongue twister, but now I learn is not...well, it IS tough to say fast, but there's more to it than that!
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair
Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't very
Fuzzy, was he?

Memorial in Fabric

Each morning, gran would bring out the over-size sketchbooks and we would sit in the garden perfecting our drawings for the end-of-summer show, which was expertly modeled by a melange of trendy dolls. Once our designs were ready for production, we would spread newsprint on the cutting tables and gran would instruct me on garment construction. When we eventually stitched the outfits together, the quest for the perfect trims and buttons would ensue. This was my favorite part of the process, as Gran would permit me to search endlessly through the drawers and drawers of beads, trims, sequins, pearls, ribbons, feathers and buttons...

Read Catherine's entire remembrance of her summers spent with her great grandmother, immersed in the world of fashion.

Invisible

"You get a hell of a perspective on life when you get old. I found that when I was in my twenties, thirties and forties, being a female by myself on the streets, I always found myself being looked at, whistles and all that.

"Now when I am by myself, in a restaurant or in other public places, I have the same invisibility that a child has so that I can really observe things much more openly. You’re freer. A target is gone. All it takes is white hair and wrinkles and to most people you are just invisible. And infinite wisdom, of course. Don’t forget that! I am much more aware of patterns in my own behavior, because I have been living with them for so long.”

From: Our Elders, Six Bay Area Life Stories, by Janet Clinger

Aunt Pat Update

From Cousin Delphine...

My mom is still hanging on. I really do not know what keeps her alive. She is so thin and every time the phone rings I jump thinking this is it. Saw her the other day and she told me she hadn't heard from Harriet in a long time so she called her as she wanted to tell her that Del was real sick (my Aunty Del she was talking about...) Then she said Johnny must be mad at her again as she hadn't heard from him in a long time and she should call him but she was tired of always making the first move.

She fell out of bed and cut her forehead real bad again and she must get sort of a concussion every time she hits her head too as she is always way more spaced out than usual every time she bumps her head.

The week before she thought the dining room was a wedding chapel and everyone was there for her wedding. I didn't ask her who she was marrying. It has been a long haul as mom's mind has been going for over 10 years now as I had to take over her check book and pay all her bills before Bob died and he has been gone 9 years now. She had no idea she had bills to pay or that mail she was getting were her bills and I would have to look all over the house where she would lay the mail down to find the bills to pay. She has already been in the nursing home going on 5 years and been on Hospice for almost 1 1/2 years and hasn't had any of her medications, thyroid, blood pressure, plavix etc. for over a year as they don't force them to take meds when on hospice they just do comfort care. She has survived no meds all this time and I was told that is why people die sometimes is because Hopsice won't stress them by trying to get them to do things they refuse to do it is just a comfort care in their lasts days weeks or months.

A Granddaughter Goes Home

My childhood is gone, and as a woman, it is important for to face the dark spots of life. My grandmother had always been there for me, from the happy times and even during the worst times. I needed to be there for her, and deep inside I realized that she needed me as well.

A friend of mine recently visited her elderly grandmother. It is a very touching recount...

The end may be near

Saw my Mom earlier at the nursing home. She is getting weaker and weaker and isn't eating. She did drink a glass of cranberry juice but nothing else.

She told me she had tallked to Dad today. I said your dad or mine? she said my Dad. I said Oh what did you talk about? She said she couldn't remember but it was a good talk.

Then she asked me where her dad went. I just said he probably went back home. She said when did he come down here? I just told her I didn't remember when he came. Then she asked me if her mother came too and I said yes.

She asked me if her folks still fought like they use too and I told her I don't remember them fighting only Grandpa liking to tease Grandma a lot.

Then she told me her Dad looked so different. I said how did he look different and she said well he looked so happy. I never saw my dad look so happy.

So maybe her folks are calling her home. My Mother might soon join them.

Now this, is aging gracefully...

Mom/experience

Went and saw Mom Thurs. Sept. 27th. We use to go to the hairdresser every Thurs. then stop at the cafe and have sweet and sour chicken. Mom loved that meal. But now that I can no longer take her out she hasn't had it for a long time. So Thurs. I thought I would give her a treat so I stopped by the cafe and got a sweet and sour chicken to go and took it to the nursing home to eat. She and I always split this meal as neither can eat all of it.

So we were sitting at her table eating as they no longer have the seperate little family area they use to have so you could eat in private with family. The little demented lady sitting at moms table did not like me eating with Mom. She watched every bite I took and was calling me a pig a hog. Said I was swallowing everything whole and eating way too much etc. etc. She really ranted about me eating some of the food. Just as we finished the meal she said you make me sick eating that slop and she picked up her glass of water and threw it at me. Got mom all wet, got me all wet, got my purse all wet. All this time not one worker saw any of this and they were walking right by us off and on all the time. I kept hoping they would tell us we could have a table by ourself somewhere since this lady was harassing us but no. Didn't even see her throw the water at us. I told them what happened and only then did they offer us another table. I told them that I did not want Mom at her table anymore tho as they do serve hot coffee and hot chocolate to some of the people and what if she thre hot drink at Mom. Sure was a shock.

However even though Mom did enjoy the meal somewhat I don't think she really even knew what she was eating much less remember her and I having that before. So don't know that it was worth it to bring her something special as she seems to have very little concept of anything anymore.

Mom & I (2006)

Harriet's Wake

Going Along

Mom can't see real well anymore so often brings an empty fork to her mouth so isn't getting any food. So the past 4 days I have been going to the nursing home to feed her at lunch time so she at least gets one good meal.

Every day is a new experience. Yesterday it was about people in the past. We talked of her husbands. She had no memory of being married and asked me how many times had she been married. I told her 3. My Dad (John Beaudette), Howard Krouth, and Norman Smith. She then asked me which one had she married first. I told her my Dad John. I asked her if she had any memory of John at all and she said no I don't remember any of them I just remember a tall, thin, frail man.

Today we were "at" J.C. Penney's the whole 1 1/2 hrs I was with her. She was office manager at Penney's for 20 yrs. She told me today that tomorrow she had some work to do. I said Oh what is that. She said she had to fire one gal because she didn't trust her and she was going to have to start cleaning house and getting rid of a few people and she hated that job. I just said yes it is hard to have to fire people. She said the gal she had to fire was destitute and had advertised in the paper that she was starving so she felt sorry for her and hired her but guessed she would have to go back on welfare as she just didn't trust her. I have finally learned to just go along with anything she says now instead of trying to bring her back to reality. Every day she asks me if her Mom is alive and I do tell her no she is dead or else Mom would wonder why she never comes to see her. The other day she asked me about Johnny and I told her he had died of cancer and she said then, well no wonder he never comes to see me. She has no idea she is in the nursing home nor how long she has been there she thinks she is in the hospital healing up from a fall she had. It is so hard seeing my Mom like this and I often don't go see her for a week or more but am trying to go more to at least see that she eats.

Bad Day

Mom had a very bad day Thursday, July 5th. The nursing home called me as they couldn't calm her down. She insisted an operator had called her from Grand Forks and told her someone in the family was trying to get ahold of her as her brother had been in an accident and that she had been trying all day to call someone but they evidently had cut off her long distance service. I tried to tell her on the phone that her brother has been gone 53 years but she insisted he had been in an accident and she had to get ahold of someone to find out how bad it was. So I went to the nursing home and spent 3 hrs. with her trying to calm her and tell her there is no one left to call her as they have all passed away. But she insisted she had called her Mom several times that day.

When I convinced her, her brother John died 53 years ago of drowning her come back was "I wonder if Mom knows about it I better call her and tell her."

So had to tell her over and over that her Mom too was dead and she almost started to cry when I told her that. Then later in her room she saw her Mom laying beside her. It was a very rough day for her and for me.