It seems this blog has become unintentionally sporadic. I have things I want to say that I have not had time to put on paper; I also have thoughts and feelings I need to sort out a bit before they are loosed on the world. In the greater scope of things, the challenges of these days for our family are not unusual or unique. We are stuck in the middle of life with everyone else. That said, I thought I would share one of the songs getting me through these days: Bill Mallonee’s “Bank.”
Milt — we’re kissing our mom good-bye after a long (!) mess of dementia. She’s sweet and good, and she’s finding us when she needs us.
We decorated her room at the care center this weekend with pages from her “Word A Day” calendar, culling from the rest of 2010, which she is not likely to see. We’ve found the most amazing words to describe her life, our loss, and her elegance in every part of her life. She is a vocabulary maven, for certain.
Next to my dad’s photo (he’s been gone 40 years): Progenitor
On the door of her new, larger room, which was ample for the 8-10 family members with her all weekend: Commodious
On the inside of the door: Zero-sum (“used to describe the situation when someone gains something of value, and someone loses something of value.
Near her sweet, pretty head: Loquacious
Sad words she has used as her faculties failed: Facility, demean, disremember, decimate
And so it goes. Though we’ve never met, I think of you and Ginger and your journey with her parents often, and I wish you the kind of humor, peace and kindness that we are experiencing. And have I mentioned hospice care? It’s my new religion. Hospice care was designed for in-home patients and their families, and Medicare is a big proponent, so don’t hesitate to look into it. It doesn’t mean death. It means “comfort.” And respite for you and Ginger.
Be well and stay the course!