Me Mum

Some things are just hard, and no matter how well you prepare, you’re never really ready. Hard things are hard.

My Mum is not well.

For months people I know, people I don’t know and family, emailed, called, texted and messaged me about my Mum and her deteriorating health. I went to visit her and a day before I left, my Mum’s RS leader left a message for me to “touch base” about my Mum. I may have come off calloused, but when I left a message for her, after I said all the polite and nice stuff, I said, “I’m not sure there is anything you can tell me that I don’t already know, but you are welcome to call me back.” She did. There was nothing new.

I wasn't sure if I should go out sooner than our planned trip in July, but after an exchange of messages, I knew I needed to see her soon. I usually cried when I was in the car. Aside from the other cars on the road, there were no distractions or interruptions. When I dropped O off at school, I got lost in thought and the tears came. Honestly, I never thought about what it would be like to have a parent die. I know it happens, but I thought my Mum would just pass away in her sleep or something peaceful like that. It never entered my mind that she would suffer for so long. A day before I flew out we spoke on the phone. She cried and cried, my heart broke. She’s lonely, tired and she knows she’s dying. She said she just wants to hold me and for me to hold her. 

I didn't know what I was going into and it was hard to purchase my tickets. It took me two days. I went through all of the steps online, but once it was time to click on "buy", I closed the page. I finally bought them, but I wasn't excited to go. On the bright side, I ran in to Aimee C. at the airport and it turned out we were heading to SLC and had the same itinerary.  It was SO NICE to see a friend and better yet, it was nice to see Aimee. She's a chipper soul.

I arrived in SLC, picked-up my car, and crashed at my cousin's house. Then, bright and early, I headed to Pocatello.  I wept during my drive there and when I first saw my Mum. Then, we slipped into our usual dance of aggravation and stubbornness. There are some things that time, illness and life can't change, and my relationship with my Mum is one of them. 

It was overwhelming when I arrived. I knew I needed to keep it together, not because I felt that I had to be “strong”, but because I needed to function. There were things that needed to be done and I only had 2 days to do them.  I was busy the first day with people so I stayed up all night Friday, with the exception of a 45 minute nap. I made good progress clearing out the clutter in the house. Mum is set up with Hospice and we have Power of Attorney signed for several different things. My last night there, she sat down and wasn’t able to get back up again to get to bed. We tried for some time without success so my mum had me call 911 and ask them to send someone to help her get up. I’m glad I was up to help. 

She’s not doing well, but she is doing better than I thought and that is good news. She doesn’t look herself, but I guess that’s what happens. It was humbling to help her with simple self-care tasks. It was easy to help and I didn’t even think twice about it.  I want her to live out her days with dignity. I know she needs full-time help, but she’s convinced she doesn’t. This is just a familiar step in our dance. I want her to be in a care facility, but she wants to die at home. I want her to have care full time, but she doesn’t think she needs it. What is a daughter to do? 

I can't finish this post without mentioning my dear, dear friends.  I am blessed to be loved by such great people and here is one example. Shortly after I arrived I received a call from Amy, my best friend from HS, but it wasn’t a good time to talk. I told her ,“I’m aggravated enough to keep from being consumed by grief, I guess that’s a good thing.” She texted me and said, “If you need me to come down to Pocatello, I totally can! It’s a short drive. I am here for you! You are in my thoughts and prayers!” She lives an hour away, and she did come down to spend time with me.  

The trip was worth it, it was hard, but worth it. However, on my flight home, once my guard came down, I wept. (Fortunately the guy next to me was engrossed in his games.)

My favorite memory from the trip

The softness of her skin as I held her hand. I snuggled with her like she was my daughter. Our roles reversed. I cared for her in ways she had cared for me.