Meet Sly. (Pictured above.) He’s a resident at my mom’s new home and spent the first couple of days welcoming her by taking his naps in her room, knocking her drinks off the table, and being undeniably cute.
The journey of caring for my aging mom continues. We managed to get her moved to a new care facility that is closer to home and has memory care.
The days preceding the move were tough … tough … tough. (I’m thankful that so many were praying … it took an army of pray-ers, for sure.)
It’s too soon to see how well she’s adjusting, but as I keep an eye on things, I’m reflecting on how much I’ve learned so far and that there are good things in hard times.
I’ve learned that you can lace an Italian soda with Ensure Clear and no one seems to notice the difference. This is DEFINITELY a good thing. (I tried to convince the local coffee shop in an area with lots of senior citizens to put it on their menu and give me a cut in the profits.)
I’ve learned that if toddler years appear tough … or teaching middle schoolers … or surviving high school drama … nothing really matches a strong-willed senior citizen who wants to go home but doesn’t want to leave.
We sat by Mom’s bed for hours waiting for her to decide she could do this (go to her new home). In the interim, Leon watched me mindlessly scroll through my phone as means of distraction after several unsuccessful attempts at motivating Mom. He finally asked, “Is there anything on there on how to move a stubborn woman?”
Ha!
I’ve learned that it seems a little mean to hide meds in applesauce or pudding … but I don’t really care anymore. It works.
I’ve learned that I can tear up at a smile and laugh at being told to, “Please remove yourself.”
I’ve learned that telling my mother that she isn’t talking very nicely to the nurse who is just trying to help her get into her chair and on to her appointments is … hysterical. Mom looked directly at the nurse, smiled, and said, “PLEASE, go away.”
I’ve learned that …
… hearing the same story for the 30th time (often in the same day) is irritating but won’t kill me.
… CNA’s have a yucky job.
… CNA’s have a thankless job.
… CNA’s and nurses who love their job and who aren’t afraid of dementia … well, I want to buy them a new car or a new house or new shoes or something. (I bought them flowers.)
… trying to convince a senior citizen who doesn’t feel well to get dressed is harder than convincing a middle schooler who hates school to finish homework It’s all like pushing string with the mistaken idea that we’re going to magically move from point “a” to point “b”.
Nada.
I’ve learned that my circle of friends has gradually changed. The average age of the people I talk to the most daily is 80. Most of them scuttle about in wheel chairs and start our conversations with, “What’s your name?” or “Have I met you before?” or “What are you in here for.”
I’ve learned that I don’t really mind listening to the problems of my friends in wheel chairs or having to just grin and nod because I’m not sure what they’re saying to me. I’ve come to adore the smiles on their faces that result from just a moment or two of time.
I’ve learned that EVERYONE needs a friend.
I’ve learned to wrestle through the guilt of former thinking … when I believed (silently, of course) that maybe it would be merciful if some people could just hurry up and be done with this life because their lives seems so hard, mundane, meaningless … so sad.
I’ve learned that I’m wrong about that kind of thinking because the smallest moment can create the greatest day … and it’s not for me to decide what those moments should look like or what God might still be finishing in someone else …. or in me.
I’ve learned that there is yet a lot of learning to go …
A few glimpses of Mom’s new “stomping” grounds:
Thanks for stopping by to read. Your “likes,” “comments,” and “follows” help me to grow my readership and community. Thanks for using links and giving credit when you share. I appreciate you and am thrilled to have you along!
Are you a subscriber? It’s free and is a great way to not miss any posts. Click the follow button to sign up and receive email notifications. Thank you!!
Note: I use a free blogging site, so the advertisements are part of the territory. I don’t see the ads you do, so just know that they are not necessarily things I endorse. =]
ABOUT THE PHOTOS ON MY SITE: PHOTOS AND GRAPHICS ON RASHELLBUD, UNLESS NOTED, WERE CREATED BY ME AND ARE PROPERTY OF RASHELLBUD.
I agree with you about CNAs. As a hospice chaplain, I see them often underpaid and treated like second-class citizens. When you and others see the work they do, appreciate it, and recognize that many of them do it because they have a heart for the job, it means the world to them. Praying for you in this journey. We applaud the caregiver also. It can be a difficult task.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Matthew, for your encouragement. We have been proud of our oldest daughter for becoming a CNA right out of high school. It was fascinating to see the experience through her eyes. She approached the job with extreme maturity for someone her age. Now that we’re in this experience with my mom, we’re appreciate the role of nursing assistants even more … granted though, not all have the same motivations for the job, which can make it frustrating (and worrisome) sometimes. I appreciate you input!
LikeLiked by 1 person
As I sit her this peaceful morning reading your blog the tears are strolling doen my face, as I am not too far behind you in this amazing life we live. I feel your strength and think to myself I can do this too… As I’ve stated before my situation is very different but the end goal is the same. Funny how all the anger, distrust, animosity, hurt, and life long pain of the last 50 years doesn’t matter as my mother enters her final years of life. All my focus is on peace, comfort, and happiness for her. Miss Shelly you continue to inspire me! 🙏🏻
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Funny how all the anger, distrust, animosity, hurt, and life long pain of the last 50 years doesn’t matter as my mother enters her final years of life.”
This is so true, Suzanne … and such a wise perspective. I watched my mother walk through this exact turnaround of emotions with her mother. Once she accepted that my grandmother was never going to be able to acknowledge the pain of the past, she finally accepted the grace to let go. It allowed her to love unconditionally and say a long “See you later”. Sure appreciate you, dear Sister!
LikeLike
What an amazing person you are, Shelly, to be willing to LEARN all this and more … in what is probably the most challenging season of your life! If only we would ALL stop cursing the darkness and instead light a candle, as you do on a daily basis in the most uncomfortable of circumstances. I wonder if there’s not a BOOK inside of you, just waiting to be written one day, a compilation of all your blogs with other practical advice to others so that they can not just “cope” with these kinds of difficulties but actually thrive! If I could I’d give YOU a bouquet of flowers! Standing with you daily. Love, Kath
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kathryn. Your encouragement and insights mean a great deal to me. Sending prayers your way as well.
LikeLike
Beautifully Done!💜💜💙
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Cheryl!
LikeLike
As I read this I was bouncing back and forth from feeling tearful to laughing … how can that be?!!! I’m very aware that you are cruising ahead of me, showing me the possibilities of my future, and the possible future of my parents. My dad has been diagnosed with probable Alzheimer’s, but it appears to be moving at slow pace compared to most that I have watched. It worries me because he still drives the motorhome to Yuma, AZ every year and back. I hate it. And my mom appears to have some type of dementia starting, though I’m sure she wouldn’t admit it. You are walking through this with such grace … I can only hope to do as well. Blessings and hugs Shelly … and pass some on to that wonderful husband of yours!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Linda! Prayers as your journey with your parents progresses. We miss you guys!
LikeLike
Rashell,you are in such a hard place. You are blessed with being patient and loving, even if it doesn’t feel like it. Praying you and your mm, and your family! God loves you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Gail!
LikeLiked by 1 person