Last weekend we went to see my elderly mother to wish her a happy Easter. We took her chocolate eggs and flowers so she would have a sense of occasion, but she is moving into the twilight of awareness of the seasons of the Christian year, even though her faith has always been important to her. Usually we can find at least one fruitful thread for conversation, but not during this visit.
Mom did brighten and smile at photos and a little video of her great-grandsons. She always does. And she listened attentively as I read her the story of resurrection morning from the gospel of John. My mother had a beautiful singing voice so I told her that we had sung familiar Easter hymns in worship. Ruth and I fumbled our way through the first verse of Welcome Happy Morning, and she joined in. Then we turned to Jesus Christ is Risen Today. We were good on the tune, but not the lyrics. Fortunately Mom remembered where we forgot, which was a poignant moment.
This past week has been tough for her, with lots of confusion. Twice staff found her waiting to be picked up, once to be taken to the airport. She was a travel agent for many years, wending her way around the planet with groups in tow. She loved her work, so perhaps hope springs eternal for one more adventure.
At 91 it seems unfair that life for her has come to this. Yet we realize life is rarely fair, and despite many difficult challenges through the years Mom has always carried on with grace. Our hope is that she will soon enter her resurrection promise, but in the meantime we will do our best to be a loving and supportive family.
We are going through similar times with our father, who just turned 92. We are thankful that he is still alive, and that he remembers(for the most part) who we are, but he currently believes he's living in the English Channel Islands(he's just down the road from me!) and occasionally thinks he's on a ship.
ReplyDeleteThis is difficult for us, but it is heartbreaking to see how this affects him. His dementia is such that he knows his memory is pretty much gone(except when he was a teenager in WW2), and he gets frustrated with himself.
Having lost my mom two months ago, I treasure each visit with him, and we have taken to playing a board game that he and I played on a regular basis when I was about 10 years old. It's all about giving him something to feel good about, even if he forgets that he did it an hour later.
One of the reasons I have written about my mother's circumstances (and ours)on several occasions is because I'm aware that there are so many on a similar journey. So often folk feel that they are alone, as we discovered during our recent series on dementia at Bridge St. We talked during that series about learning to live in the moment with our cognitively fragile loved ones. That's what you're doing with your father Roger, when you play the board game. God be with you and others who are finding their way in support.
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