But the past couple of months, life has taken precedence over blogging. We’ve been in Florida since the first of February and just yesterday afternoon waved goodbye to my mom and dad.
At 87 and almost 90, they still live in the home they built on the bay in Apalachicola thirty-five years ago. According to my dad, the only way they are going to leave there is “feet first.” His words.
Dad and Mom, in Miami with a whole lifetime of adventures ahead
Supporting Their Wishes, Against Our Better Judgement
We’re doing our best to support them in their wishes. But it’s getting harder for them. My mom has Alzheimer’s and spends most of her days in her robe, on the sofa, watching old movies and napping. When we suggest—ever so kindly—that she get dressed, or take a shower, or come outside for a walk, she grins wickedly and shoots us a bird. And tells us to kiss her butt.
My mother, who put great stock in manners and had strict rules for just about everything in life, would be mortified by her own behavior now.
We never know what she’s going to say or do. Trying to discourage her only encourages her, so we mostly ignore her inappropriate behavior and distract her as best we can. And we laugh along with her, because she’s often funny, even if sometimes appalling.
This disease is stealing my mother’s memories, but she’s still my mom. I meet her where she is, telling her stories of her life while we drink tea together on the porch overlooking the bay. She likes that. And sometimes, when she’s being really obnoxious, I flip her off when she flips me off, which she thinks is hilarious.
Four generations: Clockwise from the center—my great grandmother, my sister, my grandmother, my mom, and me
My dad has sustained his good nature and sense of humor. He soldiers on, doing all of the housework, cooking, shopping, driving, yard work, home repairs, managing their finances and keeping track of their doctor’s appointments and their various medications. He even irons his shirts. For some reason, that little act of domesticity breaks my heart. He’s doing his best to maintain life as he’s known it for the 70 years of their marriage. The past several years have been a big learning curve for him, but he’s determined and proud. Sometimes to the extreme.
His balance is not what it used to be, but until a couple of years ago he would climb a ladder with his chainsaw to trim trees that were encroaching on the roof. I almost keeled over when he told me that he was on the roof, especially when he said, “Those acorns are like roller skates!” Last year, the doctor told him no more ladders, and I think he’s finally accepting that limitation (he wasn’t listening to our pleas to stay off the roof).
I can’t help but think that they would be better off in an assisted living facility. I envision them in a nice place, with meals prepared, friends to socialize with, and my mom’s needs taken care of. But that’s what I want; it’s not what they want.
One of the gifts of traveling fulltime is that we’re able to spend extended time with my family while having the privacy and comfort of our home with us. (I am ever grateful to Eric, who is unfailingly kind, compassionate, and generous with my folks.) I’m not sure I could approach this situation with equanimity without having our own space to retreat to.
A cross-country camping trip from Florida to Oregon, circa 1960
After spending hours every day with my mom asking me the same question 10 times in 10 minutes, and patiently repeating everything to my dad several times because he’s hard of hearing (and refuses to get a hearing aid), when Eric says “What?” to me when he doesn’t hear me, I want to strangle him. That’s when I realize that I need a break.
A Daily Routine
We have a routine with my mom and dad when we’re visiting: coffee in the morning, and an extended happy hour in the late afternoon before starting dinner. There was a time that my mom was an excellent and adventurous cook. Now, she won’t even make her own tea. But my dad still loves good food, and he’s delighted by everything we make (Brazilian fish chowder, coffee braised pork, tandoori chicken, shrimp creole—he likes it all, everything except beets). And then we watch a movie together, most often something from the 1950s or before because anything else confuses my mom.
Between morning coffee and afternoon happy hour, we spent our time sorting, cleaning, and hauling off truckloads of stuff. My mom was extraordinarily creative and talented, and an equally extraordinary packrat. My dad asked for help in cleaning out her sewing room and her craft studio and we set to the task.
Journeying Through The Past
It was an epic journey going through her stuff. And it brought up a lot of emotions for me. In her sewing room, I found patterns for her maternity tops, patterns for the matching Easter dresses that she made for my sister and me, and fabric scraps from my prom dresses. In her studio, I sorted through her oil paintings, sketches, and enough paraphernalia to open a craft store—silk and dried flowers, paints, brushes, carving tools, ribbon, yarn, and more.
Easter morning 1957
Three florists came to haul away all of the silk and dried flowers, and we hauled four truckloads of stuff to the church resale shop, three truckloads to the dump, and three truckloads to recycle. We got the sewing room and studio cleared out, but we’re by no means done. One of these years, we’re going to take on my mother’s shoe collection, which rivals that of Imelda Marcos in her heyday.
I did this to help my dad, but in all honesty, I did it for myself, too. I feel helpless against the ravages of time and the slow erosion of their lifestyle and their health. Part of me wants to stay there with them, to help them stay in their home, to do whatever I can for them during these last years. They don’t pull on us to stay, but I know that their lives are easier and more enjoyable when we’re with them.
Difficult Decisions
But the reality is that we have our lives to live, too. This is one of those challenging times when there just isn’t a simple answer. The best I’ve managed is to remind myself that my folks have had wonderful, interesting lives and that this is our chance to do the same. Still, it’s hard leaving them, not knowing what we’ll find next year when we return.
The bridge over Apalachicola Bay
At the moment, we’re on our way to our next adventure. We have many new-to-us places in our near future, including Cumberland Island, Savannah, Charleston, Asheville, Nashville, and a birding festival in Ohio in mid-May. We’ll head across the country to Lopez Island for July and August and then return to our hometown of Ashland before beginning our journey back to Florida next fall.
I’ll be blogging about it all, but first, I have some posts to catch up on now that I can catch my breath. Thanks for staying with us—it’s all part of life’s journey.
I know what you are going thru. Both my parents lost their minds before the end. It’s so sad, but so frustrating. It was actually a relief when they both eventually passed. Both for me and my sisters, and for them. It’s the cycle of life.
JC, I can’t imagine having both parents suffering from dementia. My mom still recognizes us, but I know the time will come when she won’t. You’re right, it’s the cycle of life—I remind myself of that, and still, it’s hard to be in the midst of witnessing the decline of my parents.
Oh Laurel, so heartfelt and profound. Your parents are lucky to have you for this time, and you are a good daughter to give them so much of your lives. It is enough, when all you could possibly give wouldn’t be enough.
Sue, thank you for your kindness. Your comment strikes me as a profound truth—that nothing I can give could ever possibly be enough, because I will always want to give more. It helps me accept that what we do give is enough.
Great post. Your parents are so fortunate to have your heartfelt support. It must be incredibly challenging to face all the changes and challenges there in their home, for you and them. I love seeing the photos of you as a kid, I’ve wanted to see some of those for years! Such a beautiful family! Sending you both love as you move forward into your travels again. And sending love to your folks.
Thank you, Amanda, for your love and support. My folks send their love to you, too. :-) It has been a challenging time, as you know. And also rewarding. I found lots of old family photos that bring back a lot of good memories. I’ll share more with you. We’re looking forward to getting back into our traveling/adventure groove. I need some recovery time! oxoxo
This is as heartbreaking as it is familiar. So many of our friends are currently addressing the challenges of their aging parents and my brothers and I have been discussing for years the need for my parents to move to an assisted living facility, all to no avail. It is such a difficult thing when the child suddenly has to take on the role of the parent and try to convince them to do what obviously needs to be done. I guess there is some comfort in knowing that it is a common situation, but that doesn’t make it any less emotionally exhausting. I’m glad you can spend this quality time with your parents and help them in whatever ways they’ll allow, but also that you’re willing to continue your adventures. It sounds like you’ve found a decent balance. I’m also happy that you’ve decided to share your experiences here. Hugs to you. Now go do something fun.
Laura, it really does help to know that we’re not alone in this. It has been very challenging with my dad—his strong will and spirit have kept him going, but also makes it almost impossible to encourage him to plan for their future needs. His belief is that they will be able to stay in their home indefinitely, which isn’t realistic, given that there are no social services in their small town. They drive an hour just to go to the doctor. :-( Unfortunately, it’s going to be a crisis that forces a decision. I’m not looking forward to that time.
Thank you for the hugs, and for encouraging us to go have fun! I needed to hear that.
laurel. you are such a fabulous writer. your skill at detailed aspects of daily life imbued with your wit are so much fun to read. im looking forward to your book. so many blessings to you and your journey ahead. its beautiful the way you love your parents. much love!
Oh Laurie, I’m so happy to hear from you! You understand the challenges of dealing with parental health issues. I hope you’re doing well, and I would love to reconnect with you when we return to Ashland. Much love to you, too. (Haha, my book! I can’t even keep up with this blog. :-))
i am well thank you… and i am living in florida now! so, i will miss you in ashland. will live in maine for the summer though:) ya, but you know this is all prep for a book. :)the people will love living vicariously through you as well as having an inspiration to live a freer life! i’m serious!!! be well.
Wait…what?? You’re in Florida and I didn’t get to see you? No fair!
Summer in Maine sounds fabulous. We need to figure out a time and place to meet up somewhere in our journeys. Love to you, my friend.
What an adventure you are having! It is with mixed feelings that most of us go through this. I myself am trying to go through our stuff so our kids won’t have such a big job but I realize it won’t work unless we move to a much smaller home.
It is a hard thing for all and I am sure you have mixed emotions about leaving them but somehow it will all work and you and Eric have your own lives to live. Our best to you on your adventures we will be thinking of you both. Love, Penny
Penny, I know you understand. You went through so much with Eric’s mom, and you were the primary support person. You did so much for her in her last years. Thanks for your encouragement and love.
As far as getting rid of stuff, I wish my mom had dealt with some of her belongings when she was able. She accumulated an astonishing amount. You have a big home, but you’re not a pack rat!
I have great respect for your respecting your parents wishes. It is often a hard thing to do. I’ve vowed not to leave alot of stuff for my kids to clean out. And yet leave some fond memories for them to discover I guess. Love living through you guys and I hope the next time you’re in Oregon I can meet you both in person at Peggy’s.
Karen, I’m doing my best to respect my parents wishes, but boy, is it challenging, especially when my dad isn’t being realistic about their needs. It’s a good practice in letting go for me.
I like your idea of cleaning out but leaving some memories for your kids to discover. My mom had an overwhelming amount of stuff in her studio, but I enjoyed finding treasures that triggered memories while I was sorting and clearing.
I just told Peggy a couple of weeks ago that I would love to meet you next time we’re in Portland, which will be September. :-)
Oh sweetie… sending so much Love. XOXO
Kim, I know you went through a similar situation with your dad not so very long ago. Thanks for the love. xoxo
Laurel- Thanks for your story, both sad and inspirational. You paint a loving picture of the difficulties in dealing with aged parents.Strength and love to you and Eric as you navigate these waters.
On a lighter note – Love the 1960 era “SUV”- the Volkwagen Bug and trailer. Hope the travels ahead bring solace and joy.
Love, Tom & Georgina
Tom & Georgina, we appreciate so much your kindness and love. Being with my parents in their declining years is painful, and yet has its joys. But I don’t think I realized how tired I was until we left a couple of days ago!
I’m forever grateful to my parents for instilling in me the love of travel. We had many grand camping trips, and a couple of epic cross-country trips. My dad built that trailer. It had a fold down table and carried all of our gear (canvas tent, sleeping bags, Coleman stove…). It was great!
How much love in reading this post. Difficult as it is to see changes in loved ones, their schedules, patience with each other, is better when their routine is not challenged by ‘company’. You can not get this time back, nor would they wish you to be with them. Savor the good times and remember the memories. It’s what we do best as we age. Can’t wait to read more and to see you in SC. Peace this day, you are an awesome writer….
Thank you for your kind words, Julie. I know that my mom and dad wish we would live there, but my dad is also aware that we have our lives to live and he tries to not tug on us. It’s a difficult situation. We’ve come up with the best solution possible, which is to travel cross-country every year and spend a couple of months with them. In between, we talk on the phone several times a week.
We’re looking forward to seeing you and Martin very soon!
This is a wonderful post on a situation I’ve been in. It’s so difficult knowing you need to parent your parents but still give them as much control as possible. You two are wonderful to make that long trip every year in order to help them keep control of their lives. It’s amazing how much you still look like that little girl in the wonderful pictures you’ve posted. What an amazing man your father sounds like. At 90 doing everything. The food you two prepare sounds like a gourmet restaurant. No wonder they wish you’d stay and stay. I would too!
PS ADORE the camper picture. Clearly it’s in your genes. You must have a great scanner. All your old pictures look terrific!
Sherry, I know you’ve been in a very similar situation with your dad. My dad is amazing at age 90, and proud of all that he does. Which is both admirable and challenging. All I can do is offer suggestions and respect his decisions.
I’m glad you enjoyed the photos. I had fun sorting through them! My dad actually had a bunch of slides put onto a CD several years ago, which makes it easy for me to use them. I definitely inherited the traveling gene. :-))
Such great pictures. So glad you are finding balance in this situation. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Debbie. We’re doing our best to find balance! I’m glad you enjoyed the photos. I had fun choosing them.
Thank you for this wonderful post. I enjoy all your posts so much. Your writing is beautiful!
I just came back from visiting my 98 year old mom.
It gets more and more difficult to leave her, to say goodbye. We live about 12 hours away, so we don’t see her as often as we like.
Thank you again for sharing your situation.
Ilse
Thank you so much, Ilse. Wow, your mom is 98! I wonder sometimes how much time I have left with my parents. I hope I’m as fortunate as you are. You’re right, it gets more and more difficult to say goodbye. I was so sad leaving my mom and dad, knowing that it will be almost a year before we see them again. All we can do is be grateful that we have had our parents for such a long time. It’s a gift.
My heart goes out to you Laurel. This is definitely not an easy situation. Enjoy your travels exploring new places.
Thank you for your kindness, Ingrid. It was hard to leave my folks, but we’re looking forward to our new adventures.
Oh dear, dear Laurel…. What a beautiful and brave piece of writing. Thanks for sharing such personal grief and such sweet memories. You painted a beautiful picture of your family. The photos are so touching. I love, love, love them. Why is it that someone’s personality can become so distorted with Alzheimer’s? It’s so unfair, so rude, so illogical. As dementia began to take over my dad, who was one of the gentlest people I’ve known, he turned into an angry, suspicious, belligerent man. But fortunately for us, the phase was fairly short and then he just turned into a kind of vacant blob. And like you and many people, I experienced that deep sadness at knowing that this person would have been horrified and shamed at who he had become. So I just don’t get it – why has this disease totally changed your mom into someone she never was? I’m so sorry…. But thank you for sharing and thank you for going on and knowing that you must find that balance in your life between caring for your parents and living your own life. Be easy on yourself please. You need to heal for a while.
Janet, thank you so much for your loving comment. And thank you for sharing your experience with your dad. I know that my mother will someday probably enter the stage of just being a “vacant blob,” as you said. So I try to appreciate now that she’s still reachable and still knows us, even if her behavior is childlike and sometimes outrageous.
It’s a terrible disease that takes away memories and changes personality. I comfort myself in knowing that my mother had a wonderful life, and lived fully for more than 80 years before she was stricken.
I’m still trying to find the balance between helping my folks and living my own life. It’s not easy, and you’re right, I need some recovery time after the past couple of months.
This is a very heartwarming post and for some part I can relate. But like you said, our parents are set in their ways, stubborn and very independent. I can imagine also what you are feeling now, when you are so far away from them most of the time. Thankfully Eric is very supportive and that helps a lot.
It looks like the cleanup crew found a lot of treasures, love that generation photo!
Thank you, MonaLiza. I remember you writing about your mother and how independent she was well into her 90’s. And I know you understand how difficult it is being so far away. No easy solutions, that’s for sure. It definitely helps that Eric is so supportive.
I was delighted to find that four-generation photo! I think that’s the only photo I have of my great-grandmother.
Wow Laurel, I feel so proud to know you. I wish I could express to you how much this blog has touched me, in your words, since they are so much more eloquent than mine. Thank you for sharing this part of your life and reality with incredible insight…and humor (that we all need) Hope to see you soon!!!
Beth, thank you for your thoughtfulness and love. We’re so grateful that you two are in our lives. You and Perry are true friends, through fun times and difficult times. It helps me to laugh with my folks, even though it’s sometimes in response to my mother’s outrageous behavior. I’m glad you can appreciate that. :-)) We can’t wait to see you guys!
The cleaning out of your moms crafts reminds me of the marathon purging my sister and I tackled after my mom died. Which continues to this day…
It is wonderful that you and Eric are able to spend a good chunk of the year helping your parents. It is certainly a struggle to find the balance of helping them out and continuing to live your own life to the fullest.
Wishing you safe and fun travels as you move on down the road.
Lisa, you are so right, it’s a struggle to find the balance of helping my folks and continuing to live our lives to the fullest. We just keep doing the best we can and are happy that we’re able to spend as much time with my mom and dad as we do.
I had to laugh when I thought of your marathon purging continuing—I think I have years of purging ahead, too. I’m so glad Eric and I have gotten rid of SO much of our own stuff simply because we took to the road! Thanks for your good wishes. :-)
I wish I were there to give you a big hug right now Laurel. I was so touched by this post, as was Terry when he read it. It brought back so many memories for us of our summer with his folks, spending our time cleaning out their home and barn, planting a garden, and canning vegetables for them to use during the long winter months. We wanted so much for them to move off their farm but accomplished little more than to allow them to stay there longer. In the end we knew our dream to keep them safe and to enjoy the next transition in their lives was not their dream, and we had to let go, which is never easy. Terry’s dad had lymphoma that moved to his brain, which acted much like Alzheimer’s for a time. Although sad, we also had moments of laughter when he said and did the most ridiculous things, given the proud man he was. Thanks so much for opening yourself and sharing and showing us through family photos, a glimpse of your life. Terry and I are sending much love to you and Eric.
LuAnn, thank you so much for your loving comment. I remember when you and Terry spent that summer with his folks in a heroic effort to help them—including all of the chocolate chip cookies you baked for his dad!
Thanks for understanding how humor can help in these situations. My mom thinks she’s being funny with her liberal use of her middle finger, and truthfully, it often is funny. We just don’t make it into a big deal. :-)) We appreciate the love and hugs from you and Terry!
Humor does relieve some of the stress, the sorrow, and the guilt that can be associated with finding that balance between living our lives and helping our parents through the aging process and decisions needing to be made. We know that, with Eric by your side, you two have the strength and compassion to handle whatever comes your way. Love you guys!
You said that so beautifully, Lu. We are so grateful to have you two as friends. Love you, too!
You honor your parents by living your life and allowing them to live the remainder of theirs. Doesn’t make the reality easier to see, but hopefully it gives you some peace in how it feels. Your mother is blessed to have your dad, as you are blessed to have Eric – the cycle continues. Purging in stages is so smart, and I’m sure is a huge help to your dad. Big hugs to you and Eric. The blog will still be here as you continue down the road – us too!
Jodee, I know my parents want us to pursue our dreams, just as they pursued theirs. Still, it’s painful for them and for us when we leave. We’re grateful for the time we have together. And yes, we are all fortunate to have loving partners in life!
Thanks for the hugs, and for being there for us.
Love the old photos! We had the same VW bug when I was a kid. However, ours didn’t come with a trailer hitch. Lol. I’m not looking forward to what you are dealing with now. Hang in there as best you can. A quiet space and a big drink. Thinking fondly of you both. Our travels start mid June. Headed to Calgary. Planned a month out so far. We’ll see how that goes. Taking in Idaho, Montana, BC, AB, Washington and back home.
Thanks so much, Brenda. I love looking through our family photos—it brings back so many memories. How fun that you had the same VW bug! My dad welded on that trailer hitch, haha! He’s always been a “do it yourself” kind of guy.
These are bittersweet times, for sure. We’re happy we’re able to spend so much time with my parents. If we weren’t full time traveling, we wouldn’t be seeing them as much. (PS I’m enjoying a gin and tonic RIGHT NOW.)
Your travel plans sound wonderful! I’m hoping you’re considering a stop on Lopez Island?? We want to see you two!
We will see how this first 1 1/2 months goes. We don’t know if we’ll like it or if we’ll kill eachother. Yes, we want to get up to Lopez, don’t know if it will be this year or not. By late July of this year we’ll have a better idea if trailer traveling is for us. I am hoping we’ll love it. Morey is a bit more apprehensive.
Such a difficult situation you’re going through. Jim’s dad had Alzheimer’s so we understand how hard it is to deal with. We lived just a few miles away so we were close by to help but also working full time and trying to squeeze in some time to ourselves without spending all of our time off taking care of them. There is guilt either way, which is just human nature, I guess.
It’s always fun to look back at old photos. Thanks for sharing them and your story. Hang in there. ..
Thank you for your kindness, Gayle. I’ve often thought if we lived closer to my folks that it would be easier, but I’m not really sure that’s true. Your experience tells me it wouldn’t be. :-(
I love looking back at the old photos and enjoying all of the memories! I was lucky to have a lot of great times with my family. I appreciate your support.
What a beautiful post. I read every word. Even though I do not know what your voice sounds like, Laurel, I can hear the love and calmness in your words. I thank God that my dad is doing so well at 90. He has a little short memory loss but it doesn’t interfere with anything we talk about. He knows all the sport teams and scores, what is going on locally and just how bad the weather is going to get.
I love the throw back photos. The one with you and your sister dressed alike is my favorite. I am sure you had so many wonderful memories as you cleaned mom’s craft room out. She sounds like a very talented lady. So glad you could bless others with mom’s leftovers.
Many times I wonder if Paul and I shouldn’t stay in Canton, Ohio, and visit with my dad more. I then come to the same realization as you have. He has lived a wonderful, long, adventurous life. I know he would feel so badly if he knew we were staying in Ohio for him. I must put my husband first, and he wants to travel.
Looking forward to following along with your summer adventures. They sound so exciting. We have been to many of the places you will visit. I am sure you will show us many spots we missed. Safe travels.
I appreciate your loving comment, Marsha. You understand exactly the dilemma of wanting to spend more time with family, and also wanting and needing to live our lives fully. I’m glad to hear that your dad is doing so well. He must love having you close by for a good part of the year. :-)
I was really happy that we could pass on so many of my mother’s “treasures” to other people who could benefit from them. My mom was definitely talented! And it brought back so many wonderful memories for me sorting through photos. My sister and I loved Easter, I think even more than Christmas!
I love your title, your sense of grace and your understanding of your limits. Life does get in the way of life and how we muddle through is truly astonishing and oh so very different for each of us. Hugs to you (both)
Leah, thank you so much for your wonderful and insightful comment. You’re right, we’re all just muddling through, doing the best we can in situations that we can’t possibly be prepared for. We appreciate the hugs! :-)
Thank you, Laurel for this poignant, sweet post.
Thank you, Nancy. It helps me to have such loving support from friends. I’ve been thinking of you, and wondering what your travel plans might be?
This post was so touching Laurel. And personal.
Thank you for writing about your mother and father in such a loving but real way. You’ve touched a nerve in many of us. I recognize my mother in yours. She shared the same disease and I shared many of your feelings and actions as I learned what to do and say to help her and keep my sanity at the same time. I hope I accomplished it with as much grace.
Laughter, when you allow it, is the best medicine. That and flipping the bird.
Sue, thanks for acknowledging that laughter is good medicine (and flipping the bird!). There was a moment when I was writing this post that I thought, “What will people think?” but that is something ingrained in me from childhood by my mother, who clearly doesn’t give a rip about what people think, haha!
Seriously, I’m conscious of my parents’ dignity and I don’t tell everything, but if we don’t tell the truth about aging, and Alzheimer’s, then we all remain alone in navigating this stage of life. I know you understand the pain of this disease, having seen your own wonderful mother suffer from it.
Laurel, You are truly blessed to have your parents for so many years. Mine have been gone for many years. You have had a wonderful family and upbringing and it was fun to see pics from your childhood. This is a bittersweet time for you, and you state it with grace and eloquence. I hope you find acceptance for what the future holds. Big hugs!
Loretta, I do feel blessed to have had my parents for so many years. I often reflect on my childhood and how much fun we had—my folks were adventurous and we spent a lot of time boating and camping. Thank you for your loving comment. I’m grateful to our circle of friends for being here for us.
When we had to take Jim’s Mom to assisted living, clearing the 30 year accumulation was daunting. We called the estate people and then the junk people. Even with the help it was just exhausting. You two are the best for clearing out the sewing room. Happy travels for now!
Allison, I’m still recovering from the clean-out. And that was only the sewing room and studio! I really didn’t realize how exhausted I was until we left. Next year I’m going to pace myself better. Thanks for your good wishes!
This post has clearly struck a lot of hearts, and I’m not surprised. Like many others, I feel parallels, though for me it is more like looking at a curved mirror, around the corner at what might lie ahead. Sending love and strength to you guys, and even more to your dad, bless him. And that picture of the VW with a trailer—priceless.
Gretchen, thank you so much for your loving comment. I also can’t help but wonder what lies ahead. There are few, if any, who escape aging unscathed. I look at my dad and see how far his positive outlook, loving nature, and strong will have carried him and I think, “Well, at least I can try to do the same.”
I’m looking forward to seeing you this summer and playing music.
This post is so touching and personal. The old photos of your mom and dad, and yourself and your sister in your easter dresses, are priceless.
I am about to head to the the U.S. to spend time with my elderly parents. Thankfully they do not suffer from alzheimers or dementia, but my dad being 92, and my mom 84 have become frail physically. Suddenly my dad is confined to a wheelchair. He was always so active. It is hard for him to accept his new reality and it is hard to see as well. I wish they had moved to a facility with meals and care and company because now they need around the clock care which comes in the form of a live in. Expensive and invasive with regards to privacy. As my mom says all the time “getting old sucks”. On the other hand, it is of course a privilege to get older, not afforded to all. The U.S. I think is the country most difficult to get old in. Expensive care limits choices for most people. Also, in Asia, elderly are highly respected by the community, which is very different to in the U.S.
I can so relate to all of this.. the sorting, the new reality, the heartbreak… A few years back, we stopped traveling nomadically, to be back in Chicago, to be close to my parents for a while. Six months became a year and a half. I know how much it meant to them and how much they valued it. It almost broke us financially to be there (after Asia) and I felt half alive. I had to leave and live my own life to the full.
That I think is the best tribute we can give our elderly parents. But man, this post hit home. Thank you.
Peta
Ah, Peta, you truly understand the difficulty of the choices we are faced with. It sounds as though you have given a great deal of love and support to your parents over the years.
Wishing you peace in your upcoming visit with your mom and dad. It’s not easy, finding the balance between caring for others and caring for ourselves. We can remind each other. :-) Take good care.
Hello Laurel,
thank you for posting your experiences with your parents in Florida. It is not easy to see our parents age and become unable to do the things that used to be part of their every day lives. I appreciate your feelings about having to say “Goodbye” and carry on with your own life’s adventures. Your dad is a champion for carrying on. Bless his heart for caring for your mom.
I appreciate your kind comment, Zorah. My dad is pretty remarkable, and still adores my mom even when she’s being poorly behaved. :-) They’ve been fortunate to have so many wonderful years together, and even better, they know that.
It sounds as though you understand the challenges of this time of life with aging parents (and we aren’t getting any younger!). Hope you and Wayne are doing well.
My heart goes out to you both in these difficult times. Good to share and talk about these issues. Sounds like you have a wonderful family. Love the old photos, especially the VW and trailer, what a trip that must have been! We have just spent the last 3 months with Tim’s mom helping her, her mind is sharp at 96 but her body has failed. It is extremely difficult to leave her in care of others and we know she would have better care and more socializing in a facility but she wants to remain at home for now. Peace and hugs to you both.
Denise, you’re right, it is good to share and talk about this. It helps me immensely to hear from others who find themselves in similar situations.
It’s wonderful that you were able to be with Tim’s mom for three months and I understand on the deepest level of being just how difficult it must have been to leave her. Life is certainly more challenging these days with people living longer and so many of us living far away from our parents. Thank you for your kindness. Peace and hugs to you both, as well.
Hey Laurel – sometimes I don’t read all your blogs cuz peddling to keep up with my own story, tho I enjoy it tremendously, both narratively and visually, when I do. I’m grateful to have read your poignant parent post – resonate with parental alzheimers (Brys dad) and all the patience that that entails, as well as hard of hearing dynamics (my momma). Horrified by the craft hoarding story … cuz guilty. Adored the vw bug w/ trailer photo – you were inoculated to your lifestyle.
mucho amor to you both
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Oh my sweet creative craft-hoarding friend, thanks for taking the time to share your parallels. I’m always grateful when people take the time to comment on our blog because I know everyone is busy living their own stories. There’s no way to prepare for this time of life except just to live it and be open to the experience. Hearing from others who have walked this same path helps.
Yes, I was born to this traveling lifestyle. :-)) Much love to you and Bry.
Laurel, I can’t believe how much your story echoes my story. My parents died 3 yrs ago at age 91. My mom had advanced Alzheimers and my dad was her main caregiver. Your dad sounds so much like my dad – very strong willed and independent, and devoted to his wife. At the end, we found them a better living situation in a bigger place with a full time caregiver, but they were very unhappy and angry about having to leave their apartment, even though living there had become impossible. You are doing the right thing in not pushing them to leave their house, even though you’re going to worry about them every day. Unfortunately, with Alzheimers it’s not going to end well, no matter what you do. It was actually a blessing when my mom got pneumonia and passed away; sadly my dad got it, too.
Kay, thank you so much for sharing your story. It’s truly remarkable how similar our experiences are. There are so many unknowns ahead, but as you said, the one certainty is that with Alzheimers it will only get worse. My mom could go on for years, sinking deeper into dementia. I try not to dwell on that because it makes me too sad, and am doing my best to just stay present and be grateful for what we have now.
I appreciate your support and your kindness.