Graceful Women: Taking Care of Mom
Welcome to the very first in my Graceful Women Series. Stories where we move past the theory, and hear how women really experience life after forty.
I am honoured to have Lori Hoeck, from Think Like A Black Belt, share her story on Taking Care of Mom.
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Most of my life, my mother had more physical stamina than most men. Even when camping in her seventies, she’d rise first, start the campfire, and make coffee for everyone. Horses obeyed her, fish feared her, and the outdoors gave her strength.
Recently my mother, now 80 and diagnosed with both Alzheimer’s and dementia, fell out of bed and had to get x-rays at the ER. As of 6 months ago, she couldn’t figure out how to make coffee. She often confuses her television remote with her cell phone. Her short-term memory loss can be as short as 30 seconds, yet she’ll fixate for days over something worrying her. In the last year I had to take charge of all her finances, medical care, and dietary needs.
I am now my mother’s mom.
At first, the realities of my mother’s decline felt like being gut punched every day. Then I became a yo-yo between hopeless depression and small moments of surrender, grace, and understanding. Thankfully I finally surrendered this situation to Jesus Christ, and I fall into the latter category more and more often. It’s because God is teaching me:
- Compassion and patience comes from letting go of agendas and ego
- Love grows as we lessen our fears, denial, and excuses
- Kindness blossoms when we see others as no different than ourselves
The last lesson is hard. It’s simply too easy to see people with Alzheimer’s and dementia as different not only from normal people, but also from their old selves. But they really aren’t that different. We all need love and appreciation. The best way I can sum this up is by including a tale adapted from the Brothers Grimm:
Grandmother’s Table
Once there was a feeble old woman whose husband died and left her all alone, so she went to live with her son and his wife and their own little daughter.
Every day the old woman’s sight dimmed and her hearing grew worse, and sometimes at dinner her hands trembled so badly the peas rolled off her spoon or the soup ran from her cup. The son and his wife could not help but be annoyed at the way she spilled her meal all over the table.
And one day, after she knocked over a glass of milk, they told each other that enough is enough. They set up a small table for her in the corner next to the broom closet and made the old woman eat her meals there. She sat all alone, looking with tear-filled eyes across the room at the others. Sometimes they spoke to her while they ate, but usually it was to scold her for dropping a bowl or a fork.
One evening just before dinner, the little girl was busy playing on the floor with her building blocks, and her father asked her what she was making. “I’m building a little table for you and mother,” she smiled, “so you can eat by yourselves in the corner someday when I get big.”
Her parents sat staring at her for some time and then suddenly both began to cry. That night they led the old woman back to her place at the big table.
From then on she ate with the rest of the family, and her son and his wife never seemed to mind a bit when she spilled something every now and then.
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Caregiving is a gift. It is the opportunity to look deep inside ourselves to find patience, compassion, love, peace, and clarity. Tough journey, yes, but great is the reward.
Hi Eliza and Lori,
What a beautiful post.
I can’t imagine what it would be to have a parent grow old, get Alzheimer’s and dementia, and have to take care of them after having them be my caregiver for so many years. But, having lost my parents years ago, I often wish I had the opportunity to know.
P.S. The story of the old woman who was put in the corner brought tears to my eyes. Leave it to a child to teach her parents a wonderful lesson in compassion.
Hi Barbara,
Thank you — and thank you to Eliza for posting this. That story of the woman and the table still gets to me every time I read it, too!
Hi, Eliza. What a lovely concept for a series.
Lori, what a beautiful story. A beautiful lesson, too, shared first by you and then in the fable. Those stories which tug our heartstrings are the ones that hold the most precious truths. May we all become as innocent in our love as this. Thank you.
@Barbara – I cried reading the story as well. Your statement about wishing you had the opportunity to find out what it would be like to be a caregiver for your parents is very powerful. Puts the trials of caregiving in perspective.
@Lori – thank you so much for agreeing to be my first Graceful Woman.
@Julie – so glad you like the concept of this series, because …. you’ll be getting a request from me soon
@Eliza – omg.
@Eliza – LOL, okay, I’m over my stage fright, now.
HI there Lori – I think I’ve mentioned to you before that my father had Alzheimer’s – he died almost exactly 2 years ago. I don’t need to say what it was like having a family member go through all that – but I can say there were certainly quite a few moments of humour!
I am staying with my mother for over a week at the moment, as she has just had a spell of not being well, and she mentions the funny things that went on quite often.
All the best with dealing with it – a philosophical approach is surely the best one! – Robin
@Julie – stage fright. You crack me up. I have sent details to the email account you supplied with this comment. I look forward to your post. (Notice I have left very little room for negotiation)
@Robin – I hope your mom is feeling better. Finding the humour in situations, even in the sad, is extremely important. It can certainly be hard right in the thick of it, but to be able to reflect upon it and see it in another light goes a long way to coping and healing. This is true of any of life’s challenges.
Hi Eliza,
I was honored you asked me to write for you. I hope all readers can help you continue with some great posts in this series.
Hi Julie,
Yes, Eliza has a wonderful series concept and I’m happy to kick it off.
Thank you for your kind words.
Hi Robin,
Humor saves the day — every day. I’m blessed to have a husband who can keep my mom laughing. He and I also have a lot of laughs to ourselves or by talking in a way that the hidden humor goes over my mom’s head and leaves us inches from rolling on the floor.
May your mom heal up soon!
Eliza and Lori,
Thank you for this lovely post and story and – and for this series.
For 13 years I was the child on duty as my mother aged. The last three years was 24/7 end care for a woman with a sharp mind and a broken body. We learned so much from each other in the end days and I have learned so much about responsibility and reality . I did not become my mum’s mother -as her mind was quick and on target – until the day before she died when she finally let go of her duties – I was caregiver, scribe and feet. I had to teach her how to let go.
My husband was a great help, he went out a bought a car to transport my mother so she was not stuck in her room, he put a chair on the stairs to lift her up and down and he took his turn 3 mornings a week so I could go and exercise.
My siblings disappeared until it was time to divide up the money! Oh and my sister made felony charges against me and I had my counseling license suspended …
Family relationships are amazing….at the journey of death.
How exhausting it can be also.
Very nice idea here and I know many people have things they would like to share. Such as my friend Jo could see that her 4 sisters were going to have lots of trouble as their mother was dying – so she took them all on a spa day with a mediator and dinner at the end….it truly helped everyone get along and make decisions and meet emotional needs. A year later when their mother passed they were all still loving each other and thankful for the experience.
Hi Patricia,
Thank you for sharing your insights and how your friend handled her siblings — all powerful examples of the good, the bad, and the ugly of caregiving.
@Patricia – you have made an excellent point about how elder care, and in my experience death, can completely divide a family. I think it’s extremely important to communicate and set expectations before the family is in the thick of things. My brothers and I talk about ‘who gets mom or dad’. We gave them to my youngest brother, but then he upped and moved across the world *chuckle*
Eliza – new concept of divide the family!
Lori – thank you too for your response…..it is very hard to describe the exhaustion of the experience and I currently think I am just unwinding from the whole venture now after three weeks out of the country and being taken care of on that trip. Just starting now to fill up my well…
I sometimes so wish I had some siblings who I could communicate with or share feelings. I truly feel like an orphan – I thought I would think of it as starting a new family tree with fresh roots and seed…oh the might acorn!
I have been my mother’s mom too once when she was in the hospital. It was tiring, but the feeling was so much rewarding.
@madz – so far, we have had only 1 stint with my mom being in the hospital. I live over 5 hours away and my younger brother overseas. So, it all fell to my dad and my middle brother. My brother put in full days at work, would go straight to the hospital, then come home, email out a status report, and then squeeze all the family and household activitites in. He was exhausted. It was also exhausting from my other brother and myself, but in a different way. Being so far away, we were worried sick and felt helpless. That being said, I believe it gave all of us a renewed sense of family, and how important it is to make the most of every moment.