Posted by
AudiR10TDI on Friday, July 25, 2008 7:31:40 AM
TORONTO (July 24, 2008) -- I am back from another visit to my family over in Syracuse, and as my sisters had reported, Daddy is fading fast. My Florida sister Linda and her beau Jack came up to spend a few days too, as it became clear that we ought not to put off family visits while Daddy is still able to enjoy our company. We are in home hospice care now and the hospice people are wonderfully kind, patient and helpful, and Mama is slowly accustoming herself to the parade of people through the house and learning to trust them enough to call someone when needed. But the fact remains that the dynamic has dramatically changed.
Daddy conquered his fiery temper before he stopped racing, back in the day, but he is clearly, quietly furious at the change in his circumstances. He is able to sit up and preside in his loungeback chair for about 2 hours at a time before being conveyed to his room for a short nap; and he scowls that he hates not being a good host and mutters that he wants to find a bridge and jump off. Mama has never conquered her temper, and explodes with frustration that upsets the sisters, who misunderstand her feelings and jump on her for *picking on him.* She says she knows she should not do it, but the strain is clear even when she holds it in. Respite care helps her to have some time off, but in the night when he cannot sleep, she is up too; and when he does not want lunch, she will not eat either unless somebody sits her down and puts the food in front of her. The folly of the Traditional Housewife is writ large in Mama at this crucial time; brought up to believe -- and enjoying -- that women did not worry their pretty little heads about the organization of daily life (keep your clothes nice and your house clean, bring up the children and leave the rest to the man), she cannot write a cheque, has no idea what anything costs, and is wracked with fear that she will be flung out into the streets. Mama has worked hard all her life, but handed the money over to Daddy and asked him for what she wanted. She clings to us now for reassurance and decisions that we more liberated women have made routinely for good or for ill; and we are reminded, well most of us, that Father Knows Best works only as long as Father is able to cope.
But during the visit we had time for the important things. Daddy and Mama both are reviewing the 62 years they have had together and wondering whether they did enough, did the right things, and whether we grew up without vital stuff that other kids had. They crave the reassurance and the memories of the good times we had when the money was very short and so was everything else -- except a sense of adventure and the knowledge that we always had each other. So we spent a lot of time talking about the funny things, the silly things, the triumphs and the glories. We talked about the Sunday drives to Minnewaska Falls, with a picnic lunch and our hoola hoops or jump ropes or just a beach ball, to enjoy being together. We recalled the long trips in the Henry J in the days before seat belts, with a big mattress covering the back seat and a pile of library books for company, and usually a baby sister in a car bed, heading for a dirt track somewhere for Daddy to try to make the field, occasionally popping up our heads to glimpse the trailer with the stock car on it sailing along in front. We shared ancient jokes, giggles and stories and we remembered adventures. And most of all we reassured them that we would stick together, that at the end of the day whatever our differences they would never overcome that foundation.
We are all learning patience in dealing with a situation we cannot change, and drawing lessons from wherever they may come. Saturday night we watched Titanic and reminded ourselves how long it takes from the time you yell RIGHT FULL RUDDER until the ship turns. We continue to reassure Mama that we will never allow her to be flung out into the street, that we are ready to step in and handle those things she feels she cannot handle (practically everything can be handled by the bank today, for example, and she has a son in law and a nephew who are CPAs who will oversee the banks handiwork), and that with children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her she will not be left alone except when she wants to be. Sisters have bought cemetery plots in the Veterans Cemetery nearby where they play Taps every evening, and the Vet in charge is working with us to get a funeral home where Vets can get a funeral that takes their situation into account. Sisters take the car to be inspected, gassed up, and maintained; sisters call maintenance and have things done around the house. Nieces are learning that the old fashioned view of women has serious flaws and are learning the basics of their family finances (and every one of them know how to write a cheque).
But most of all we are learning that when the foundation is good, the house does not fall. We have been blessed with a foundation by parents who are far from perfect but who are not so far from perfect as they fear. And as Daddy looks toward sunset, we are thankful for everything our family shared, shares, and will continue to share when some of us are in heaven.
There is a lot of value in that.