Old Age and Death and Dying

Ready for an uplifting post?  Then don't read this one ; )

"A test of a people is how it behaves toward the old.  It is easy to love children.  Even tyrants and dictators make a point of being fond of children.  But the affection and care for the old, the incurable, the helpless are the true gold mines of a culture." 

~Abraham J. Heschel~

We've been dealing with some aging parent issues around my home. My mother-in-law will be 91 next month, and my father-in-law just turned 87.  My father in law has been having some dementia issues for a few years now, moodiness, anger issues, confusion. He's been in and out of hospital's and nursing homes, and it seems like it may finally be time for him to permanently leave his home. 

I have dealt with this before. Three of my grandparents ended up in nursing homes before they died. My maternal grandmother, (Nanny) had breast cancer that metastasized to her bones. She got to the point where she just couldn't be cared for in her home anymore. She went down hill pretty quickly after being moved into the nursing home. I suppose you lose your will to live a lot quicker when you realize you no longer have anything to live for. She was trapped in a bed, away from her family. We visited her, but how often can you really spend at the nursing home when you have a job and your own life to live? (and being 21, I felt my life was very important).  My mom was an only child and had big issues with her mom. My parents were on vacation in Florida when my grandmother died and my mom refused to come home. She said the service could wait until after her vacation. So my sister and I made all the arrangements. I had just turned 22 four days after her death, and my sister was 26. We arranged for her cremation, and arranged a service with the cemetery and the priest. Thankfully my grandmother already had a burial spot bought and paid for. But we still had to wait two weeks to have her service, because that is when my parents would be home.  Nanny died February 15, 1990.

My grandmother left behind her husband Harry, my step-grandfather, but really the only grandfather I had ever known. He fared pretty well for awhile, but then he too needed to go into a nursing home because he just couldn't live on his own anymore. My mom certainly wasn't going to move him in with her, she already had my paternal grandfather, Pa, living with her and my dad.  He had moved in when I was a sophomore in high school.  

In 1991, a year after my grandmother died, my parents moved from IL to TN. My mother decided she was not going to take my grandfathers with her, so they were both left behind, in IL, in nursing homes.  And then my mom pretty much never looked back. My dad was complicit in this too, he was just usually in the background of everything my mom did, which is why I keep putting this on her.

So it fell upon my sister and I to visit our grandfathers and make sure they had the things they needed. I tried to get out to see them weekly. The nursing home was about 1/2 an hour from me, but it was over an hour for my sister. It was rough going to the home every week. I was in my early twenties, when it seems you are the most alive. And every week I had to go and sit with those on deaths door. Pa was never overly happy to see us. I sensed he realized it was out of a sense of duty, not that we really wanted to be there. He was a pretty angry man, had a rough life and carried that with him.  I can't recall him ever being really happy.  But my sister and I would go anyway, we would sit with him and watch TV, or while he ate his lunch. Make sure he was being treated well, and then we'd leave. It was always so depressing. A lot of the people there never had anyone visit. They were just left there. My sister and I would talk to some of these other residents if we were in the community room. They seemed to appreciate having someone other than nurses aides to talk with.

A few times Pa needed to go to the hospital for a feeding tube because he started having trouble eating. The nursing home would transport him there and then call my sister to let her know. ( She being the oldest was the one left in charge).  They were never able to keep the tube in him, he always managed to pull it out. He had a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) on his chart, but a feeding tube isn't the same as not resuscitating. My mother also had a signed living will from Pa, and she had his medical power of attorney, so eventually she decided to just stop all means of nourishment. She was still in TN by the way, calling the shots. So even though my sister and I were there, actually caring for him, my mom got to have the final say in how he should die. 

Harry (my maternal step-grandfather) managed to hang on until 1995. He lived in that nursing home for 4 years. The first few years he did pretty well. He had a TV, he could watch the baseball games. He was asked to be on a major league team right after high school, but his father wouldn't let him go.  Harry never had any kids of his own, his only other relatives were his sister who was older than him and still lived back east. My Nanny was Harry's life. When my parents were transferred to IL with my dads job, Nanny and Harry moved out a year later. So our family was all Harry had. But Harry wasn't my moms real dad, and she didn't particularly care about him once she moved to TN. Harry had done a lot for me growing up. I was only 10 years old when Nanny and Harry moved to IL. He drove me places, I used to hang out at their apartment, and he taught me to drive. So I felt I owed it to Harry to visit him as much as I could. He died 3 weeks after my eldest daughter was born in 1995. My parents came back to IL and we had a small service for him at the cemetery and a small luncheon afterwards. All of that was at the insistence of my sister and I. Harry had a burial plot next to my grandmother (they both wanted to be cremated) and if it had been up to my mom, we would have just passed his ashes off to the cemetery and had him buried. But I remember that service and the luncheon. And I am glad we paid him the respect he deserved. My mom had a marker placed on her mothers grave after she died, but she never got one for Harry. She kept telling me she didn't have the money. In 1997 I received a settlement for a back injury. One of the first things I spent money on was a marker for Harry's grave.

So why I am writing all this down? Well, for one, grandchildren shouldn't have to deal with taking care of their grandparents when able bodied children are alive. My parents both completely shirked their duties as children. I realize both had crappy childhoods and had serious issues with their parents.  But they were never not on speaking terms with them, we always had them in our lives.  You just don't abandon your parents in the end.  It was really stressful for my sister and I to have to make sure our grandfathers were taken care of. We were just starting our own lives, by the time Harry died we both had small children.  It was a heavy burden. I don't regret all that we did , but I still think the responsibility should have been on my parents.

Back when all this was going on I often thought how it would be for my parents. Would I have to put them in a nursing home and watch them deteriorate too? As fate would have it, my dad died at 56 of pancreatic cancer and my mom would die 6 years later of internal bleeding at 62. Has it spared me the pain my husband now has to go through? I don't know. Death is death no matter when it happens. I was devastated when my mom died, it was quick and unexpected. I had 6 months from diagnosis to death with my dad. A little time to prepare and say goodbye, but it was still very, very hard. But my parents will be forever young in my memory. I didn't have to watch them lose their faculties and their minds. I didn't have to worry about the care they might be receiving by others in a home. Death is death, whether young or old and it is painful for children to watch their parents die.

I have a fear of death. I know I shouldn't as a Christian, but I do. So I want to live as long as possible. And I kind of hope my mind has gone when I go, so I am not aware of my death. But I certainly do not want to put the burden of my elderly care on my daughters. So it is a dilemma. Obviously I really have no say when I die. But if I had to choose early death to spare my children the pain of my care, or living to a ripe old age to hang on as long as possible, I choose the ripe old age. I just don't want to die, ever (yes, denial!)  I hope to make sure my old age needs are taken care of before I get there (if I get there) so that those decisions don't have to be made by my daughters. I'll also make sure they know that they don't have to come and sit by my bedside and entertain me. I'll have lived my life, and they should be living theirs. Not worrying about old mom in the home.

Life sucks and then you die.  Or your parents die, or are dying, or are losing their minds.  None of us expect or want this in our lives.  But it will come for all of us eventually.  C'est la Vie.  

“Parents, however old they and we may grow to be, serve among other things to shield us from a sense of our doom. As long as they are around, we can avoid the fact of our mortality; we can still be innocent children.” 

~Jane Howard~

Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks

I just realized it's been a week since I wrote a blog post. I don't even know where the time went. It's not like I am super busy. I work part-time two days a week. I have co-op on Friday. I drive my girls places (like friends houses and kyuki-do lessons), take them to appointments (like doctors and dentists), take them to the library for books or anime night, try and keep the girls engaged during the day when I am not driving them places (that pesky homeschooling thing we do ; ) clean up after the cats (that hairball thing they do), go to the grocery store so we can eat, occasionally do the laundry (to keep my hubby happy), iron for hubby (so he'll look presentable at work) cook dinner at least a few nights a week, watch American Idol, etc., etc.

Writing it down makes it seem like I am busier than I am. Or maybe I should just cut myself some slack because I am busy. Looking over my list I realize I didn't even add anything I do for me. I suppose sitting at the computer and checking my email or Facebook would count as me time. Now if I only had a comfier desk chair I might enjoy it more. But then I'd probably see my time go by even more quickly, because if my chair was comfier, I might never get up, LOL.

I'm always so tired during the week, I really look forward to the weekend. But that just makes the week seem to go by quicker. Pretty soon several weeks have gone by and one wonders where the month has gone. I'm not sure how to remedy the problem. I suppose I should look forward to every day during the week. Not just live for Friday. Such is the life of a working family. We look forward to the weekend when dad is home and we can sleep in and hang out. No one has a class, no one needs to work. We can just be, our lives are our own, we don't need to be on anyone else's time schedule.

I want to look forward to retirement, but I don't want to be old. There's just no pleasing me I think. I want the best of everything, and I want it now. I want to be retired, I want my time to be my own, I don't want my husband to have to go to work. And I want it now, while we're young enough to enjoy it. So there!

(And of course it would be nice if these middle aged hormones didn't make me so moody ; )

Hanging with my Daughter

This past Tuesday I had the opportunity to spend some quality time with my youngest daughter. First we went to a neighboring town to check out their Farmer's Market. It was kind of lame. Seeing as this is only July in the Midwest most of the good veggies aren't ready yet. There were potatoes, onions and lettuce. But no berries, no corn or tomatoes. So nothing that interested us. I thought my daughter would want to head right home, as it was pretty hot out and she wasn't overly thrilled coming with me in the first place. (But she did come willingly!)

Imagine my surprise when she wanted to stay and walk around the "Square". The Farmer's Market we went to is located in a historic part of this neighboring town. They have an area in town set up as a square. There are many shops and an old theater. It has cobblestone streets. Very cool area of town. If you have seen "Groundhog Day", then you have seen this square. It was filmed there.

So anyway, nothing exciting at the farmer's market, so we hit the stores. There is a great little candy shop which we hit first. They have the most delightful malted milk balls you have ever had. They are like triple dipped in chocolate....delicious. So of course we bought a pound of those. Then we continued on and ended up at the bakery. (Can you tell we were hungry?) We each got a donut. Then we went to a local Hallmark store and looked at Croc's and Webkinz. Isn't it funny how Hallmark stores sell Croc's? Then it was on to a mini indoor mall. There was a school/office supply store, I bought my daughter some pastels. There was a fabric shop and we looked around at all the fabric. There was also sandwich shop, but we decided the sandwich's looked too expensive and fancy for our tastes.

Outside the mini mall, back on the square we hit a book store. After that we realized we had "done" the square. We were back where we started. We still had our donuts, so we decided to venture into the park in the middle of the square to eat them. In the park area there is a gazebo where bands can play. There was a family band (mom, dad, daughter and what looked like grandma up there), they were playing mostly 60's hits. So we sat on a bench in the park and just enjoyed the atmosphere for a little while.

We decided to hit the road and head for home. On the way out of town, I remembered there was an antique mall that we would pass by. I figured dear daughter was tired and would just want to head home, but imagine my surprise when she was excited about going to the antique mall.

The mall is a collection of consignors so there is quite a variety of things to look at. It's all one space, so you don't leave one store for another. Once you are in you are in. It had an upstairs and down. We spent 1 1/2 hours wandering around this mall. My daughter is enamoured with all things old. She loves old sitcoms, she loves old history. She was just fascinated by some of the antiques. I guess I should have taken her to an antique store before now. We looked at furniture and toys and books. We spent a lot of time looking at old books. We looked at jewelry and old clothes. I saw some things that were around in my youth, and I had fun telling my daughter how I used to use some of the things. I showed her things I remembered my grandmother owning. And she actually wanted to listen and hear about it. (Not everything in the mall is a true antique, but it's all older than her).

Finally in the end, after I told her I would buy her something if she wanted, she settled on a piggy bank. She has decided she wants to start collecting piggy banks. This is only her second piggy bank, so we have more piggy shopping to do. There is a town about 1/2 hour north of me that is known for it's antique stores. I mentioned to my daughter that we should go sometime and she was excited about it. She wants to spend another day antiquing with her mom.

I feel like the days of my kids wanting to pal around with me are waning. As I said at the beginning, when we first set out on our adventurous day, she wasn't too keen on joining me. She actually tried to bail at the last minute, but then I think she felt bad because she had told me she wanted to come. But in the end I know she had a really nice time, and so did I. We didn't play video games or watch TV or even see a movie. We walked around a historic square, looked in shops, talked to each other. We explored other people's old stuff and talked about what their lives must have been like. We made plans to do it again. Man I love my kids.

Aging

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?

~Satchel Paige~

I still live in the town I grew up in. I still have a few friends from high school that I see regularly. I think because I have continued to see them, they still look the same to me. It's different when I run into people I haven't seen in 20 years.

While shopping today I saw someone I went to high school with. I wasn't really friends with her, she was in the class below me. But I knew who she was. When I saw her I knew it was her. It looked just liked her. Except (wait for it.....) She looked REALLY OLD!!!!!!

I can't comprehend this old thing. I see myself everyday and I don't think I look old. I see my sister (who is 5 years older than me) and my friends who are the same age as me....and I don't think we look old. But then I run into someone I haven't seen in years and she looks old. And it wasn't just this woman. Every time I see someone from high school whom I haven't seen in 20 years, they look old to me. Which must mean I look old to them.

I don't feel old. Sure some days my body hurts in places it never used to. I certainly don't have the physique I had 20 years ago, but my brain, it feels the same. When I look at myself, aside from the grey hair and the laugh lines, I look the same. At least I think I do...(I suppose my hubby may beg to differ). How did I get to be 40 years old?

I can't understand people who say every birthday is their 29th. I am not a fan of plastic surgery. I do think I can grow old gracefully. It's not the looking old or even the number that bothers me. It's the actual aging......getting old. I just can't wrap my mind around it. I can't imagine myself in 20 years. When I am 60 will I still think I look the same? Will I still think I feel the same? Do you ever reach a point where it hits you that you are just not the same person you were when you were 20? Because I know right now at 40, I still feel like the same person.

I'm afraid of getting old. I don't want to die. I don't want to even think about dying. It scares the crap out of me. I know as a Christian I shouldn't feel this way, but I do. I throw myself into a panic attack every time I think about getting old and dying. I have this brain that needs to know. I need to know exactly what is going to happen. I need assurance. I am freaked out about the whole idea of forever and forever. How can something be forever and ever? How can God have no beginning and no end? Everything has a beginning and an end. These are the thoughts that keep me up at night.

So I just go on doing what I do. Living day to day. I don't like to think too far into the future, because the future is unknown and I don't do well with the unknown. I know the end will come for me. It comes for everyone. That's just the way it is. (Freaking out here!) And the way I feel time flying by, I know it will be sooner than I think. I feel like my first 40 years went by so quickly, and I am sure the last 40 will feel twice as fast. Maybe I can make it to 100, and so maybe I have 60 more years to look forward to. Maybe I am not at the 1/2 way point yet. Maybe I need to keep telling myself that. Even if my body starts to fail me, I wonder if I will still feel 20 in my mind when I am 100?

The great secret that all old people share is that you really haven't changed in seventy or eighty years. Your body changes, but you don't change at all. And that, of course, causes great confusion.

~Doris Lessing~