I visited my mother this morning after she sleepily completed her physical rehabilitation. She was sounds asleep in bed and I gently woke her up and she cried, "I haven't seen you for so long." I said, "I've visited you and you are doing a good job sleeping. You must be tired." "It is good to see you again. I said, "I brought several friends to visit with you and the said hello." She smiled and said, "That is nice."
We talked about her day and she said she was so sad and bored. We chatted about it a bit. I asked, "Would you like a Hershey Drop?" "You know how to make me happy. You know all the things I like. You've always known I like sweets."
I asked about her Ma, and she said, "I really like her. We had good times together, but I gave her a hard time." I asked about Dawn Mari, and she asked, "Where is she? I miss her so much." "She is just in the other room. She is watching over you as you sleep." My mother increased the amount of time she slept.
"Would you like communion?" "Of course." So, we prayed and she cried. She cried some more and then she cried even more. The words of Scripture consoled her. I asked, "You are sleeping a lot. Do you think about death?" "I don't want to die. I'm scared. Not now at least." "Well, O.K. You go whenever you need to go. We will miss you, and we will always keep you alive to us. You'll never be far from us."
"I don't want to go until I make up for the ways I didn't love you all enough." "O, you've loved us plenty, and I thank you for that, but this is the time that we want you to accept our love and thanks. Can you let us love you?" "I have to give more. I did not do enough." "You've done plenty. We want you to rest peacefully and to be content with what you have done for us. Thank you. You've done your very best, and we are all O.K."
"I'm not very happy. I'm bored." "Do you do activities each night with the community?" "No." "What about playing BINGO?" "I hate that game. I've never liked it. It is not fun." "I agree. I don't like it either."
"What about watching movies or having someone read a book to you?" "I do like movies, and I like reading." Would you like us to watch movies with you and to read with you?" "Yes, please."
How are you legs feeling? "They hurt. They tingle." ""Would you like to me massage them." "You tickle me, and it makes me laugh, and I never laugh anymore. I'm too serious." "Well, this is your time to laugh. The time for crying is way in the past. Now is just the time to enjoy life and to laugh. There are so many good people around you and they want to see you smile. Would you like to smile more?" "Yes, we let's do that then. How about a Hershey's drop?" "They make me smile." "And I'll tickle your feet." giggle. giggle. giggle. Time passes.
"Can you choose to be happy each day? It makes a big difference." "I'm so sad and unhappy, but I'll try." "I'll try with you. You deserve to be happy - especially after all you have given to us. This is your time of happiness."
She said, "I should get on with the day. I have to go to the bathroom.What time is it? "Five past noon.""Would you like me to get a nurse?" "Yes, but don't leave." Just then the nurse arrived and asked if she was ready to get up for the day. She said, "No." I said, "You just told me you were ready to get dressed for the day and to go to the toilet." She said, "I am. I always say No at first." OK. Well, let's get going.
I slowly rose from my crouched position and realized it has been two weeks since my surgery. She doesn't even know that I had it. In prior days, I would have told her that I was having surgery, but it is of no consequence now, but I realized part of my interpersonal loss is that I do not have a parent to update about my health situation and personal life. I do have my Jesuit community, which has always been enormously supportive, but there is loss when you do not have a parent with whom you can share your big information.
However, my job is to make them as comfortable as possible. I want to show them my care as I can and help them prepare to their next stage of life.
Now, I hope I can soon give plasma and platelets for the victims of Hurricane Harvey.
John, I was concerned when there were no posts on Ignatian Spirituality yesterday and when I checked earlier this morning so I popped over to your other blog here. This is very touching the way that you minister to your mother but you touched on something very important concerning yourself and all of us whose parents have passed on. It is difficult not to have someone with whom to share those challenging times of life. Yes, we have friends and other family but no one loves us like our mother. We all need that connection with someone for whom we are a very important person. That is one of the losses that I felt when my parents died when I was in my early 30s. Blessings as you continue to show your deep love for your mother!
ReplyDeleteLynda, with the beginning of the school year and the extensive physical rehab I had to do, I simply forgot to update the blog. Yes, there is suddenly a finality that you don't expect to have stopped so abruptly. It is odd and it takes an adjustment, especially around the holiday. I'm sorry you had to experience this at such a young age.
DeleteAnother Lynda, Linda, Same/Different. Michael Z, an adorable little former student who had Down's Syndrome, used to say, "Sane/fifferent!" And every single time I say 'different,' I WANT to say "Fifferent"! Some things make their lasting impressions!
ReplyDeleteSo I, too, can identify. I had my parents for a very long time and we were involved in each others' daily lives, and losing them definitely involved the extinguishing of lights in my soul and the heralding-in of a new level of "grown up." What a strange, though mostly wonderful, journey, life...
Yes, well put, Linda. We do grow up when we have to act entirely on our own, and it is a remarkable journey that awes us, even though there are challenges and disappoints. Yet, it is a strange journey that we have to embrace.
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