The Long Goodbye

This is about Mother’s Day, but first I want to tell you about my dog Harvey.  We have two dogs, with Harvey being the older and Stella the younger.  Both are miniature Dachshunds.  Harvey somehow hurt his hind foot a couple of weeks ago, and has been favoring it.  He yelps when he tries to jump up on the couch, and he has pretty much stopped trying.  We pick him up and move him around.

We took Harvey to the vet and she did an x-ray and said he had some trauma to his ACL and that he needed rest and time to heal.  She prescribed an opiate and an anti-inflammatory, which we are rotating.  So now we have a somewhat dazed Harvey who doesn’t move much but looks like he is in pain.  Stella keeps sniffing him and worrying over him, to which he just grumbles occasionally.

Today we were all together and Harvey just laid there with his eyes open, just staring, not whining in pain but clearly not happy.  I know he is hurting and I know there is not much more we can do, but I wish I could read his mind.  I wish he could communicate to me so I knew how he felt.  Sure, there are occasional tail wags and other indicators, but I still don’t really know what is going on in there.

Last night I went over to visit Mom.  Today was busy with other things and I knew my brother and sister would be visiting her today, so I thought I would spend time with her last night.  For those who don’t know Mom is in an assisted living facility in Washington, MO.  She has memory issues and suffers from Aphasia.  For those unfamiliar with the term, I found this on Wikipedia:

“The difficulties of people with aphasia can range from occasional trouble finding words to losing the ability to speak, read, or write; intelligence, however, is unaffected. Aphasia also affects visual language such as sign language. In contrast, the use of formulaic expressions in everyday communication is often preserved. One prevalent deficit in the aphasias is anomia, which is a deficit in word finding ability“.

I stopped and got her a card and flowers.  I guess most of us probably looked over those Mother’s Day cards, so we all know about that experience.  All you have to do is find the perfect card with the perfect words to define how you feel about your Mother.  Piece of cake, right?  Do you gravitate toward the ones with big roses and large cursive words or the ones with a cartoon dog describing all the funny things Mom had to go through raising you?

None of those cards can describe the important place my Mother holds in my life.  It is almost embarrassing to choose one, they are all so inadequate.  This woman has been my Mom for 55 years, and has been my greatest advocate every single one of those years.  And yet the card is necessary, for some reason, so I picked the best one I could and grabbed a small bouquet of flowers.

We have long since run out of gift ideas.  Mom has no real needs, per se.  She has meals prepared, she has plenty of clothing.  She does not go out shopping any more.  She does not read and hasn’t played games in years.  She will not touch a computer, or anything electronic for that matter.  Even my sister just shrugs and says, “nothing”. 

I always feel a twinge of anxiety when I walk in.  I know one of these days she is not going to know me, it is not going to register who I am.  Last night she was right there on the couch where she always sits with a few of her friends, right there in front of the TV.  She smiled and stood up as I approached.  My anxiety faded, a little.

We hugged, and then sat down.  Mom recognized me.  She knew she knew me, but I am not sure it all registered clearly.  I put my arm around her and made some small talk.  I want her to feel comfortable and not anxious about me.  I gave her the flowers.  Her face was puzzled.  “What are…?”  “They are for you, Mom”.  She smelled them, smiled, and set them aside. 

I gave her the card.  She looked at it, and I started reading, not knowing if she could do so or not.  I read the stupid words written by someone who does not know either of us; fake words that only hinted at my true feelings for this woman.  Her face was again quizzical; I told her it was Mother’s Day but it did not fully register.

Mom started asking questions.  Actually, that is misleading.  Mom starts the question but before she gets a few words in she has forgotten what it was she was asking.  It is up to us to fill in the rest and sometimes we can and sometimes we cannot.  “How did you…”  “How long did it take…”  “How far…”  ‘Where do you…”

She always wants to know where I live and what I do.  She learned that I am married and have three grown kids.  She was thrilled to learn about her great grandson.  She was impressed that my wife is a teacher.  I always test her reaction to a few trigger words.  “Kentucky” gets a reaction.  She is from there and wants to go back and visit.  But many of the things that used to get a reaction no longer do. 

I asked her if she wanted to go outside.  Apparently she does not like to go outside much anymore.  They say she is afraid of falling.  Her friend says she has fallen a few times.  I encourage her and we walk out to the patio. It took several minutes as she really is pretty unsteady.  It is beautiful there and the weather was great, but she seemed a little uncomfortable being out there so we went back inside after a short time.

She would start a question and stop, and I would just smile because we both knew I didn’t know what she was asking.  She would smile and say “I forgot”.  Then, “You know I am…” and she would point to her head.  “Yes, Mom; I know, and it’s ok.  I love you.”  She looked me square in the eye.  “It’s getting worse.  I am not good”.  I reassured her that I understood.

She knows she is losing her mental function and she is aware of her problems staying focused.  She knows she has lost her memories.  And yet, thankfully, her worry is soon gone because of that very problem and she is back to other things.  We watched a little TV.  I suspect she sits on that couch a lot, watching TV with her friends.  They know her and they understand.  But true connection is difficult most of the time.

Like many of you my mother was the rock in my life.  I know not all Moms are perfect but I have to be one of the very luckiest to have gotten the one I did.  My mother was awesome.  She was a housewife and later, after we were older she worked at the elementary school.  I have never known anyone who loved children more.  Mom is a strong Christian woman.  She is not perfect but she was always our champion.  We were fed and dressed and she made sure we got to school and practice and meetings and bathed and brushed our teeth.  

And sitting there with her last night, feeling helpless, I wondered what Mom would do it my shoes.  I saw her care for her own Mother before she died so I know the answer.  Mom would make sure she had done everything she could do to fix the problem and then she would sit down and just give you the most valuable thing she could; her time and her love.

I put my arm around her and hugged her tight.  I must confess I am guilty of not visiting her like I should.  We all get busy and I have been very busy lately but that is no excuse.  I promised to come see her more often.  I told her we would make it to Kentucky for a visit but I am not sure how she would do with that.

I wish I could plug in to her brain and see what is going on it there.  I wish we could have a conversation.  I wish I knew if she was in pain or sad or lonely or frustrated.  There are some indicators but like Harvey the truth is a mystery.  We both know things are not right but I can’t fix it and I cannot know what she is thinking. 

I took her flowers and card to her room.  When I returned she seemed worried, and I asked her what was wrong.  She was worried about where I was going to sleep.  She worried that I was hungry.  She worried about where my wife was, and where she would sleep.  I let her know I was not staying, that I had to go but I would come back soon to visit.  Even now, after all these years, even here, my Mother was worried about me and my well-being.  Of course she was.  That’s my Mom.

She walked me out and I told her Greg would be by in the morning and Sharon would be by later in the day.  She seemed puzzled again.  She asked me “Why?”, and instead of explaining about Mother’s Day I just told her it was because they loved her.

Mom stood at the door and waved me goodbye.  I have no idea what was going through her mind and I will never know I guess.  In that moment she once again reminded me of Harvey, who is excited when I come home and sad when I leave.  Like Harvey I know Mom loves me unconditionally and will always be on my side.  

Today is bittersweet.  I know many of you no longer have your Mother around and I am keenly aware of how lucky I am that mine is still alive.  I do not for a second take for granted the fact that I can drive over and see her.  Someday that will not be the case.  But I know part of Mom is gone already.  We will never again have a real conversation.  We cannot share old memories.   I cannot know for sure what she is thinking.  For those things I am grieving. 

But we love each other very much, and I still have all of my memories.  And for now, I can still go visit her and hug her and tell her I love her.  In that I am very blessed.