Some days the search for the daily candy is difficult. Today was one of them. Mom has been in a nursing home since the beginning of the month. During that time she has recovered immensely. She will never get back to living by herself, but she has become more aware of her surroundings, and we can carry on decent conversations.
As a family we discussed whether or not we should tell her that she would be staying at St. Matthew’s. We were afraid she would become more depressed. We decided to skirt the topic without outright lying to her.
During a recent visit she began to talk about her apartment. She asked me if she would be going back to her apartment. She kept pressing the issue, and as easy as possible I explained the necessity for her to remain at St. Matthew’s.
Surprising to me, she accepted the course. However, upon further discussion she continued to ask about her things, her ninety plus years of accumulations. Although we went through two downsizings, she still had a substantial amount of things.
I explained that everything was at my house, and we would share things with the family and sell what we could. Her head sagged to her breast. “All my things. What am I going to do?” she pleaded. Consoling her was difficult.
Softly she kept repeating, “My things. My things. What am I going to do?” Tears filled her eyes. Her last grasp to the outside world, to her past, was slipping away from her. Finally she asked me to leave. Before I left she whispered, “Thank you.”
On the way out the building I stopped to see the chaplain. The words I spoke did not easily leave my throat and tears filled my eyes, as I told Pastor Eileen of the conversation with my Mom. She promised to stop in to see Mom later.
My candy today was flavored with the salt of tears and didn’t taste much like candy. However, in retrospect I did help Mom with accepting the new path her life was winding down.
Mom's picture circ 1933
Mom and Dad's Wedding 1936
Ciao
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