Reflections of a Daughter of the Silent Generation and Mother of Generation Y
In Barbara Cooney’s Ms. Rumphius, a young girl tells her elderly aunt, “When I grow up, I too will go to faraway places, and when I grow old, I too will live beside the sea” to which her aunt responds, “There is a third thing you must do. You must do something to make the world more beautiful.”
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
“When we get to Maine…” Mom often said, as she sat in our new home, here in Maine. Then, returning in the snow from the doctor’s office, we passed the dentist she’d gone to for five decades. “Dr. Ortengren…” she read aloud from the sign, and then turned toward me with a, “I guess we’re home.”
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
The wonder of it is, finding and using a more loving language is something we can all do, here and now, to make the world more beautiful.
In response to the carpenter’s “this place is jinxed,” I chose Paradiso blue for the upstairs floor. Thank God for humor, animals, friendship and faith for keeping me on track; those, and Mom, who was not one bit superstitious and who knew paradise when she saw it, even with one eye.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Helping Mom manage her finances was an important step in her care, one I’m glad we took, despite our discomfort, before another loss.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
It hadn’t made sense to get mad at the kids for disrupted sleep, nor did it make sense to get irritated with Mom. I just had to make a plan to get some shut-eye and stick with it.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Mission accomplished. 170 years looked pretty damn good.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
I met Hannah when I coached her on a fast-pitch softball team. I never anticipated that it would be Hannah, ten years later, who’d help us care for Mom. No surprise, Hannah was a great teammate!
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Deep vein thrombosis, her leg all swollen and blue, and we feared a bleed.
On blood thinner now, filter protecting her lungs, home to recover.
Compression stocking, why are you so freakin’ tight? No more blood clots, right?
Noticing the bench, “I played piano on that…” she says with a smile.
“Is that Mother’s chair?” I nod at the needlepoint, “Is she still around?”
“About the baby, can we make a plan to see?” a great grandma now.
Behind her at work, the builder pounding away, making our home sound.
Ever resilient, her eyes as blue as the sea, a cat with nine lives.
Mom sits with a book, dog in lap rocking a way, a smile on my face.
Eighty-five years young, expect the unexpected, one day at a time.
—from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
AA’s Step Eleven: “Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with our Higher Power, praying only for knowledge of our Higher Power’s will for us and the power to carry that out.” When I’m feeling anxious and need a hand to hold, I can hold my own. Then I’ll find my hands are joined in prayer, and I am not alone. (Al-Anon’s Twelve Steps & Twelve Traditions)
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
