......as old as you feel.

 

 

My Mother is 87 years old.  In my mind’s eye I still see the lanky young woman with a cloud of curly black hair, show girl legs and a friendly gap-toothed grin.  In reality she is a grey haired, much smaller version of herself with practical shoes.

About six weeks ago I was at lunch about forty five minutes away from home when my cell phone rang.  “Diana….I think I may have a problem.  I fell and I think my hip broke.  I’m on the front porch and it’s so cold…,” my Mom said.  Thankfully she had shoved her cell phone into her pocket before going out for her mail.

“Stay still, Mom.  Help is on the way,” I said with much more calm than I actually felt.

I immediately dialed 9-1-1 and had the dispatcher patch me through to the proper county.  They assured me that they had a squad on the move.  Next I called my husband, Larry, who was much closer than I to her home; he also headed out to help.  I was in my car and rocketing toward home before I got off the phone.

With some calls from my husband, and pretty good luck, my brother in law and sister in law, Ron and Sue, were pulled into the action.  They managed to meet the rescue squad at her house, Larry met the squad at the hospital and I set a new land speed record from my appointment to the hospital.

 I arrived to find my Mom on a gurney in the emergency room;  Larry, Ron and Sue keeping her company.  She was not experiencing any pain and seemed fine, with the exception of being chilled to the bone.  I hunted down a nurse who was kind enough to get us some blankets from the warmer and things seemed to be under control.

It was my Mother’s good fortune that an orthopedic team was performing surgery that day; they had just enough energy left to do one more hip replacement.  Three hours after she arrived in a rescue squad she was in surgery; everything went well and three hours after that she was in her own hospital room.

Weeks in recovery and therapy have gotten her back on her feet, even if she needs a walker right now.  She is thinner, her step more hesitant, but she seems to be on the mend.  Her fondest wish is to be back in her customary pew at church very soon….it is also my own.

When the rolls reverse and you are caring for a parent it brings you to terms with things you’ve been able to push to the back of your mind.  I guess in a way it’s another step in growing up; I’m surprised at this age to find I still have lots of growing to do.

It has been my  great good fortune to have a supportive husband and children.  They help in every way possible to reach the goal of getting Mom strong and independent once again.   Without family to commiserate and celebrate with, I don’t think that effort would be doable.

It has been a struggle to keep from completely taking over the reins of my Mother’s life.  Patience has never been a virtue of my own; it is easier and quicker to just make a decision myself and get on with it!    Trying not to fall into that “my way” trap I remind myself daily that she is an adult with preferences and choices that may not be the ones I would make, but they suit her just fine.
I have made a concentrated effort to include her in conversations with therapists, doctors, nurses. 
For some reason they speak to me and behave as if my Mother can’t hear or answer for herself.  I try to gently pull the conversation back to include Mom. If that conversation needs to be a little louder or perhaps a little slower….so be it. 

While she struggles to regain her footing Mom has taught me something important.  I've come to understand that she is always surprised to see an 87 year old female looking back at her from the mirror.    While our bodies age and become cranky, we do not get old inside.  I believe the spirit does not age; somewhere inside us the storehouse of who we are withstands all the ravages of time.  I know that, inside, my Mom is still a young woman who loves to dance and laugh. 

It is my wish to be my Mother’s advocate and, when necessary, her voice.  At the same time I try to remember she is still a person with likes and dislikes….fears and memories and needs. 

Dealing with age, mine and hers, requires a different skill set and a different placement of ones ego.  It is more important to be kind than to be right….to be loving instead of being on schedule.   As tough as it can be sometimes it is better to lead with your heart.   Everything else, hopefully, will  follow.

                                                                  Life is Good

                                       Letter from a Mother to her Daughter:

 

My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If, when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”… Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story… night after night until you would fall asleep.

 

When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?

 

When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way… remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day…

The day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.

If I occasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.

And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked.

When those days come, don’t feel sad… just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love. I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you… my darling daughter.

                                                                                                                    -written by Sergio Cadena