This is the day the Lord has made;
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
--Psalm 118:24 (NIV)
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| Mum In The First Home Dad Built Us Port Coquitlam, BC, Canada, 1962 |
My mother has dementia and does not want to go to a facility better able to take care of her. So far, we’ve been able to accommodate. My sister and brother have taken on the lion’s share and together have held down the fort for the last few years, enabling her to stay in the last home our father ever built—which provides Mum extra comfort. However, as the disease advances, we have to rethink the arrangement. She knows this and is filled with fear. Her fear, coupled with the demands on me as I help out temporarily, leave me exhausted, concerned, and at times barely able to hang onto my own sanity as I get sucked into the vortex. I find myself walking away, escaping the circumstances, bowing my head and biting my lips—as if this might force words that could provide for her a measure of assurance.
This morning I woke with dread, the day weighing heavily before me. What new burden would I have to confront, what new confusion would my mother have to suffer? A Psalm came to mind—each day is new and made by God. In this, we can rejoice and be glad.
I found Mum in bed despondent, teary, so full of fear there’s no mitigation at hand. I’ve heard other people say to watch a parent slide into an unreachable place is gut wrenching. I more fully understand this; and unable to soothe her or even get her out of bed, I had to call on my sister.
Tresa’s a therapist and has been dealing with Mum a long time. She’s more practiced. She has better skills. And so I left the situation in her hands, went downstairs, and had myself a good cry. And I had to ask: How can I rejoice in such a day? Worse, How can I rejoice and be glad in the many to follow? Listening up the stairwell to Tresa as she repeatedly told Mum we care about her and that, no, she’s not a bother, I found myself grateful for such a sister. She got Mum out of bed, got her dressed, and calmed down.
I have to be honest. I don’t know about tomorrow and the days ahead. But this day, this particular day, I can rejoice and be glad.
This morning I woke with dread, the day weighing heavily before me. What new burden would I have to confront, what new confusion would my mother have to suffer? A Psalm came to mind—each day is new and made by God. In this, we can rejoice and be glad.
I found Mum in bed despondent, teary, so full of fear there’s no mitigation at hand. I’ve heard other people say to watch a parent slide into an unreachable place is gut wrenching. I more fully understand this; and unable to soothe her or even get her out of bed, I had to call on my sister.
Tresa’s a therapist and has been dealing with Mum a long time. She’s more practiced. She has better skills. And so I left the situation in her hands, went downstairs, and had myself a good cry. And I had to ask: How can I rejoice in such a day? Worse, How can I rejoice and be glad in the many to follow? Listening up the stairwell to Tresa as she repeatedly told Mum we care about her and that, no, she’s not a bother, I found myself grateful for such a sister. She got Mum out of bed, got her dressed, and calmed down.
I have to be honest. I don’t know about tomorrow and the days ahead. But this day, this particular day, I can rejoice and be glad.
Dear Lord: Help me not look too far down the road, but to take each day as it comes and to find in each day the blessings You bring. And wherever it is Mum goes as she loses reality, speak the words we cannot so that she, too, can trust each day to You.
My Mother had Alzheimer's, she eventually had to go into a care home. She didn't really know anyone of her family anymore, but we knew her. It seemed so sad, at first. But, in my last visit with her, I knew why the good Lord put her there. There were many, many patients with dementia there---the care givers were over loaded with yells, and misbehavior.. While sitting with Mom, every time one would walk by, Mom would look at them and say "I really like you"---with a smile on her face. One worker finally stopped, and she told me----"I would not be able to get by, some days, without those words, from your Mom"... She was an angel to many, even in her last days.. The good Lord always knows what to do---it might not be what we wanted, but what was best, for everyone.. God Bless you on your journey..
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