Mission accomplished. 170 years looked pretty damn good.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Just Plain Thankful
Post DVT Haikus
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
Step Eleven, I Am Not Alone
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
Finding our Balance in Maine – Look Who’s Boomeranging Now?!
Safe and sound in a familiar routine – A daring cross-country move
Leaving a community of awesome people – Moving to another community of awesome people
The Midwest Prairie – The Atlantic Ocean
Encouragement – Discouragement
Remembering Mom’s “Go For It” and Dad’s “Don’t let the weather get in the way” – The Reality of Mom’s five-day hospital stay
Mom saying she’s so glad she’s here – Then forgetting where here is
Mom insisting she does not need a doctor – A doctor is exactly what she needs
An intestinal bleed due to too little clotting – Deep vein thrombosis due to too much clotting
Warm welcomes – Cold shoulders
A medicine that stops a clot in its path – The same medicine threatens another bleed
Worrying whether I pushed too hard to get Mom back – Witnessing her joyful reunions with my brothers and their families
Feeling alone at 4 AM – Feeling support at 9 AM when brother Dob surprises me with coffee
Questioning whether I’m fit for this job, after another sleepless night – Refinding my way, thanks to a prayer written by Megan, a dear friend in the Midwest
An unfinished house – Everyone involved going above and beyond to get it ready
Mom speculating about my spouse’s love life – He at our new home, cleaning and prepping, for our return
A compression sock that hurts so much to put on – A compression sock that helps her leg to heal
Night four in the hospital spent trying to climb over bed rails – Day five heralding freedom in the form of discharge, after she tells the doc she’s in no rush to get out
Nonsensical at bedtime, so exhausted from the week – Clarity the next day, as we go to our new home:
“Portland…” she says, when we drive though the city
“It hasn’t changed a bit,” she adds, as we turn up the road of my childhood home
“It’s so big and blue,” she observes after we wheel her seaside, her eyes tearing up
Afternoon spent watching boats go by – Evening spent worrying that she needs to pack
My repeated assurance that we are not going anywhere – We are home for good.
Letting Go of Expectations, as they say in A.A. – Holding on to what’s helped before: my husband and kids, cousins and friends, research and advocacy, love and faith
Thank you.
Amen.
—from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Fingers Crossed, all packed up and ready to go
Getting Mom back to Maine among family and friends, the ocean near, was my own bucket list odyssey. My counselor said, “Some dreams do come true.” I hoped she was right.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Step Ten, “Progress Not Perfection”
AA’s Step Ten: “Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.” These days, with how Mom’s Alzheimer’s anchors her in the moment, I’m grateful for how this slogan and Step Ten help me stay right here with her. (Al-Anon’s Twelve Steps & Twelve Traditions)
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Glad to be Acadia Manset’s Granddaughter
Sorting through Grammy’s records, I discovered she’d written under the pen name Acadia Manset, for her favorite haunts in Maine. The way she’d cared for her aging mother, Dora, inspired me to care for my mom like she had, in the sanctity of our home.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Celebrating G
How could we be so blessed a third time around? He’s so many things…among them a constant reminder that this is not a limited supply of love and beauty we are dealing with, it’s an endless one.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
“First Things First”
Starting to feel breathless with all the What Ifs, I remembered this AA slogan. The nurse drew blood and collected urine in record time and, free to go, I asked Mom what she wanted for lunch. “Something meaty,” she replied: First Things First!
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
“Lady Girl” – aka when Mom forgets who I am
Mom had referred to me as her sister and her friend. Then, as Tramadol messed with her mind, she asked me if I’d be her secretary and later, my personal favorite, her “Lady Girl.” I was just glad she still knew I was on her side.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
