a journey of taking care of aging parents, their passing, and other types of caregiving
Author: chelleren
This blog includes a year of adventure where I left my teaching position to pursue dreams , renew friendships, and care of my aging parents.It includes details about my aging father who lives in a memory care home. I recently became a grandma and will be taking care of little Julia starting in October.
” I hope you have a good Christmas!” My daughter’s comments to her grandparents at Thanksgiving made me stop and reflect. “Where would they be this Christmas since they decided that Florida would not be in the best interest this year?
When we left their home after celebrating Christmas, I looked at her, sitting in the chair, and suddenly realized it was going to be her last Christmas. I wanted to deny it, but the signs, excessive sleeping and her posture, indicated otherwise.The month of December, filled with Christmas activities, included another one on December 10: the passing of my dear mother-in-law.
Her passing went quickly. She entered the hospital, the decision was made to place her in a hospice facility, and she passed away a mere 48 hours later.
I know she had a good Christmas because she is free of the painful leg wounds, free of daily medication, and free of aches that never could be fixed with medication.
I also wanted her to have a good Christmas, but I also wanted more time with her, more laughs, and more shopping trips.
Now that Christmas is over, can I say that we had a good Christmas?
The answer is a resounding yes. Knowing that she is without pain means that we had a very good Christmas. I will always miss her, but she must be celebrating Christmas in the best way possible. That, I would say, is a fantastic Christmas journey.
Freedom– the name of the rose for the casket spray.
How do people remember those who passed? This isn’t the first time I have asked this question. I know someone who marks the date with a family dinner. Others visit the gravesite.
My mother’s passing came without anything done. No communication with relatives, no action on my part, and no remarks.
However, I woke up today, the day after, and remembered. “Did my mother pass away on the 9th or 19th?” I had to locate the funeral bulletin to be sure.
Thinking about her passing the day after the date made me wonder. Is this what happens to people after a certain amount of time? Perhaps it is that way when it is about someone who is older. I doubt it happens when it is a young person. My mother was 89 years old and lived a full life. Her obituary is proof.
However, I still felt a sense of regret that I didn’t do anything on the actual day.
The question, though, is this: does it matter? Does it matter that I didn’t communicate with my brother about this date when we often mention her in communication?
My action step is to create another list of ways to remember her, regardless of the date. Time to get started!
Send a care package to her granddaughter who lives in another state
Eat a Dove chocolate or share some with another person
Take a picture of her great grandchildren by the tulip tree we planted in her honor
Donate money to a charity. This is easy because my son is trying to raise money for children’s cancer research.
Have a picnic
Put out flags for September 11
Attend a concert
Listen to ABBA music
Listen to John Denver music
Remind my brother of the date
Achieving the items on this list will help me remember my mother in a positive way on any date. Actionable steps make a difference!
I read once that grief can hit you without warning. It can surprise you because you think it’s done and then, BAM! Maybe that is what happened when I heard the news about the type of deaths that I would term as shocking- a young father who died as a result of a accident with a car moving, a young girl killed when her friend, the driver of the car she was riding in, lost control and crashed. Gone. I didn’t know either of these people but know people connected to them, so it filled me with sadness. I felt like having an ugly cry, but it usually give me a raging headache, so I somewhat composed myself.
I immediately wondered, ” What would my mother do in these instances?” I discovered the answer in the chestnut colored desk drawers. I somehow have accrued boxes of cards for different occasions and found several. My mother frequently wrote others cards on Sunday afternoons. But what do you write that actually conveys true sentiments?
A 2018 CNN news article outlined the reasons that the phrase, ‘Thoughts and Prayers” became a type of joke. These phrase was often used after school shootings. It became a type of joke because it didn’t seem that anything was actually doing done to stop the school shootings. The topic of school shootings, hotly debated, is one that doesn’t seem to go away. The phrase, thoughts and prayers, is one I want to avoid now because I do want to convey my grief in a genuine manner, but how?
The first question is to figure out why thoughts and prayers seems to trigger such a sentiment of distaste. Why is it that people dislike it so much?
The answer is because it feels like a copy/paste, completed checklist item, and “I’m doing this because I’m forced to” kind of reply. When one is grieving, the heartfelt notes mean something. They give a reason to pause in the midst of the grief.
Then what is a good response? I discovered a few.
Memories I know that I appreciated moments when people shared memories of my father volunteering at a thrift store or times when he fixed a home antenna.
Reminders that God is the ultimate comfort– Psalm 23
As we enter the last week of February, I am pausing my workload to return to this blog. It’s been quiet for some time now because my father passed away in November.
I can hardly believe that he is actually gone. Yes, he lived a long life, but I miss him terribly. I wish I could still walk into his room and hear his greeting, ” HEY!!!” I wish I could sit down with him and talk about his stories about WWII and how he outwitted the Germans. I wish I could organize all his messy papers, show him pictures of the family, and take him on walks on the outside trails.
I didn’t feel like writing about it and, at first, I could not articulate the reasons. I suppose that the busyness of work and the holidays keeps one from writing. After a parent passes away, one needs to manage paperwork and other tasks. My brother has managed this part which is a blessing.
Upon further reflection, however, I think it was because of the closure that I always dreaded. Both parents are gone. I don’t think I have fully come to terms with this truth. My Michigan visits will be different now. I will not be heading to Waterford. I don’t even know if I could actually walk into Waterford right now without feeling a huge void and expressing the ” ugly cry”, not the best presentation of myself.
It was the email, though, that prompted me to rethink my feelings. ” Do you know of any Christian podcasts that focus on issues with aging parents?” It was a wake-up call for me. It reminded me of the importance of helping those who are caregivers. It reminded me of the need to establish a caregiving support group at church. In other words,the journey must continue. My role must continue. But what does this look like? This is for another blog post. In the meantime, I will share some pictures of my father’s service.
My dad would have loved having family together for the luncheon.We had very few flowers at the service. It was better that way. More people contributed to my father’s choice of charity.My brother, his wife, Mitch, and I were all together when my father passed away. I am truly grateful that I could witness his peaceful passing into eternity. I was not present when my mother passed away and always regretted it.
The recent school visit of an Indiana politician prompted me to get back to this blog. Why? Her birthday is the same day as my mother’s: September 24. It also reminded me of my previous checklist in September.
My mother would have absolutely adored Julia.
It seems only fitting to create another one, so here it goes!
Writing cards to others was one of my mother’s Sunday evening tasks. It’s a good way to start the week.
Eating Dove chocolates brings back so many memories!
Giving a financial gift to Elim, a special needs school, seems fitting since she always had a heart for those with physical or intellectual disabilities.
Sending a care package to someone who lost her mother seems like a very good way to remember her.
I need to take a picture of the tulip tree we planted in her memory.
Reading a Robert Frost poem is perfect since she is the one who suggested using “The Road Less Taken” for my ninth grade graduation.
Although she loved KFC and Burger King, I may just need to drive by these restaurants.
Cleaning windows, always a necessary task, brings back memories of paper towels, ladders, and some left over streaks.
I have to iron! She ironed Mitch’s shirts in a way I cannot reproduce.
Reading a book is a Must Do task as she frequented the church library and read every Sunday afternoon.
Listening to Bach, the oldies, or ABBA will bring a smile to my face.
I want to donate financially to each of our kids’ churches. She would be incredibly blessed to know that they attend church on their own, without a parent taking them.
Working with children was one of her favorite parts of life. She particularly enjoyed providing child care at MOPS, a church-run mother’s group. That’s a pretty easy memory to copy!
A picnic, her favorite pastime, is a great way to honor her.
Reading Psalm 24 is a nice way to remember that she was born on the 24th day of September.
I hope I can remember to plant tulips in October!
Attending a concert would remind me of the times she would tell me about these different events. I doubt my father would have attended any if it wasn’t for her.
As the month continues, I hope I can make it a priority to remember. Five years goes quickly.
I seem to deal with something repeatedly. What is it? Unrealistic expectations. I don’t know why, but it keeps happening. Case in point: our recent MI visit to see my father.
“Hope you have a nice visit. He’s been doing well lately,” my brother texted. My answer: low expectations make a difference. The Saturday visit reminded me that I don’t always believe it.
As we planned the Saturday visit, I thought of ways to encourage. Thankfully, the facility allows dogs so we took Kenai along for the ride. We brought my father’s plant back. It struggled for a while, so we took it to Indiana for tender loving care. I thought its healthy green leaves would excite my father. A new picture of Julia in a white frame would prompt a smile! New stickers for his water bottle would remind him of God’s love and care. Shamrock shakes from McDonald’s would top off the morning fantastically.
Upon arriving at Waterford, we found Dad sleeping in his wheelchair. As he woke up, my optimism started fading. I noticed his swollen hand. “What happened?” I inquired. He shrugged. The nurse informed me of the edema. When he sleeps a certain way, it causes edema. However, it usually goes away by mid-afternoon. Deciding that his room would allow a quieter visit, we wheeled him to his small abode. ” Look at your plant!” I encouraged. ” Yeah,” he replied with indifference. ” We also brought you a new picture of Julia,” I continued. ” And what about these shakes?” I asked, pointing to the three green shakes. He sipped the green shake cautiously and gobbled down the cookie. I placed the new stickers on his water bottle. ” Why is this empty?” I asked. ” Too heavy to carry,” he responded. I never thought about the weight of a water bottle!
” What’s up with your hair, Dad?” I asked. More shrugging without talking. I gave up on trying to create a polished look with his brush.
“Let’s go somewhere else, ” I suggested, hoping that a different location would allow more conversation to occur. His listless answers needed a different approach.
Despite my attempts at playing the piano, interacting with other residents, and showing a plethora of pictures, he kept nodding off. When he did converse, he remarked on his memory and how little he could remember.
” Do you remember my name?” I asked. He did, thankfully.
However, I was dismayed to find out that he could not remember our sister-in-law’s name, our kids, or my brother’s kids. The questioning must have tired him out because he fell back asleep.
Deciding that this visit would be categorized as a short one, we left. On the way out, I asked the nurse to make sure he received a haircut. I wondered, once again, if this was our last visit.
However, one can never tell. ” Ups and downs”, the nurse remarked.
On our way back to Indiana, I thought about expectations and researched more ways to deal with them.
The title of the article, “How to Relinquish Unrealistic Expectations” caught my eye. The author outlines several ways to deal with unrealistic expectations. Using humor is one way, but I don’t find these types of visits funny. The reality is that I sometimes feel disappointed in giving up an entire Saturday for a visit. What did we accomplish?
However, another tip did resonate. What would I say to another person in this situation? I would say that every visit, no matter the outcome, is a way to honor a parent. It is part of the journey of caregiving.
Horticulture, the branch of plantagriculture dealing with garden crops, generally fruits, vegetables, and ornamental plants. The word is derived from the Latin hortus, “garden,” and colere, “to cultivate.” As a general term, it covers all forms of garden management, but in ordinary use it refers to intensive commercial production. In terms of scale, horticulture falls between domestic gardening and field agriculture, though all forms of cultivation naturally have close links.
One of the best forms of therapy, in my humble opinion, is working with plants. Tuesday, my scheduled day to water our twenty-something inside plants, constantly reminds me that plants offer hope, renewal, and distractions from life’s challenges.
But how can we use plants to help others?
Even young children can learn about plants! This picture looks like Julia is observing the plant, but the reality is that she wants to grab the little plants and eat them!
Care of a plant allows one to focus on other things than yourself. I am constantly aware of how much I focus on myself. Ugh. Why do I do this?
Plant care can help others work through loneliness. My father’s Sunday text reminded me of this truth. Hello Michelle. How are you doing? I haven’t seen you for a while. Anyway, we could talk soon? Love you. Or is it possible to meet face-to-face? I need to visit him soon and bring a plant like a hyacinth or tulip plant where he can watch the transformation.
Plants provide hope. The seeds sprout, the flowers bloom- Exciting! While I was an interim principal, a government grant allowed the purchase of plants. Those plants, three years later, are thriving and growing!
As spring unfolds around me, I will continue to look for more plant lessons. The beauty of the earth is unbelievable.
Low expectations, a phrase I forget to use, is important when caregiving or visiting elders. I often head into my visits with the opposite, so I need to coach myself before the visit. ” Low expectations, low expectations, ” I kept saying out loud while driving to Michigan.
As I drove closer to the exit, however, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of enthusiasm about the new water bottle. What a strange thing to get excited about! I was hopeful that the larger water bottle with horse stickers would prompt him to take better care of himself.
” Dad!” I greeted him enthusiastically. His smile and recognition filled me with happiness. “ Look what I brought you!”
He matched my enthusiasm with a greeting and an audible response. “Hey, that’s nice!”
Because he seemed happy and upbeat, I asked him if he wanted to head out for lunch. His response surprised me. ” Sounds great!”
Inside, I wondered if I was too optimistic. Could I really manage to take him to a local restaurant by myself? Hmmm…..
However, my optimism prompted me to prepare. The med techs took him to the bathroom, I located a vest for him to wear outside, and I filled out the necessary forms. But what about the transfer?
Despite a little bit of nervousness, I drove the van to the front door, wheeled him to the passenger door, and somehow helped him into the front seat. We high-fived each other when finished. It seemed like a small victory to see him sitting in our front seat.
” What a beautiful day!” we commented as the sun streamed through the van windows. The warm Michigan weather surprised us.
Driving into the restaurant parking lot, I wondered how I would get him out. Should I drop him off near the door, wheel him inside with the van parked near the ramp, and bring him outside? I decided to park since the parking lot was rather empty. Getting him out of the van seemed easier. “It’s always easier getting out, ” he observed.
The hostess greeted us and located a table easily accessible to his wheelchair. I reflected upon how the wheelchair makes one think about everything differently.
He examined the menu and decided upon a large hamburger called ” The Dutchman Supreme.” We laughed about the name, and I hoped the name alone would prompt him to eat more.
I felt more hopeful as time went on. He was eating everything! When the waitress asked about dessert, he pointed out a fudge cake. He was alert and asked me questions. We were sitting at a restaurant and he wasn’t sleeping!
As the meal continued, he started some deep coughing. Thankfully, it was a short episode, but I decided that we should end the meal. My goal was to have a positive experience.
Somehow, I managed to get him back into the van and we drove back to Waterford. “That was really nice, ” he commented. I agreed and marveled that it even happened.
We ended the visit with laundry folding, Bible reading, and me playing the piano. It was a remarkable day!
I decided to visit him the next day to see if the positive pattern would continue, but it was a short visit due to his extreme fatigue. Despite my attempts at asking him if he recognized the songs I played on the piano, he kept sleeping. “Dad!” I would say in a loud voice. The nurses smiled indulgently. However, I refused to let it discourage me.
I left Michigan happy that we had a wonderful visit. I will take a good visit with a bad one. One out of two isn’t bad at all!
Dad enjoyed dessert!Waterford leaves baskets of laundry that need to be folded in different areas. We folded laundry together, a task he didn’t even know about! He rarely did the laundry when I was growing up. I always take a picture of the outside fountain in the winter.
“He’s been pushing the plate away,” my brother texted. A pain of sadness washed over me as I recalled the same issues with my mother.
Food battles seem to be everywhere. At a recent event where I provided childcare, the child hid under the table when confronted with food. Julia, starting to eat new foods every day, isn’t napping well during the day. Teachers try to help parents by encouraging students to eat lunch daily.
I decided that the only way to help was to research and located the following website: https://dailycaring.com/6-ways-to-get-seniors-with-no-appetite-to-eat/ The website pointed out some ideas already implemented like milkshakes but made me think of other ideas. What about yogurt? What about foods that don’t require the use of utensils? Do I need to purchase a fun placement for him or is that a burden for the food staff? Do I need to bring in a charcuterie board and have him try different foods?
I continued reading and located a different article:https://dailycaring.com/9-more-ways-to-get-seniors-with-no-appetite-to-eat/ One idea caught my eye. The author mentioned that dehydration can cause elders to lose their appetite. Dehydration is a big issue with my father. What if I found a new water bottle with horse stickers on the outside?
Both articles mention a keyword: patience. This can be the most difficult challenge. It takes patience to encourage someone to eat when they clearly have no interest. When dealing with young children, ignoring behavior can sometimes work but it can be difficult to stay positive. When my mother would not eat, I tended to give up. How can you actually force an older person to eat? My answer: I don’t know that you can. However, changing up a few things may help. It’s time to head to the Dollar Store and locate some new water bottles. The journey continues…….
Journeying on Interstate 65 three days per week often draws me back to my year in Michigan. It was a year when I frequently traveled on M-6, an interstate highway that allows drivers to bypass busy highways.
I find myself comparing the two journeys. The radio station sounds similar at times. How can that be? I sometimes don’t feel like traveling among the heavy truck traffic. I inwardly groan at the thought of driving two hours per day. Sometimes, I feel like a truck driver with a much lighter load. While in Michigan, I sometimes felt like choosing to do other activities than help my father with grief recovery.
However, one main difference is the destination. Taking care of a baby is the beginning of life. Julia’s constant changes and growth remind me of how she is developing. Witnessing this type of growth is quite different than the end of life, but yet….. there is good in both.
A Journey Worth Remembering 