Love

Living with my mom, I am discovering, requires the love Paul expounds on in his letter to the church in Corinth. You know, the famous "love is patient, love is kind" verses. The ones lots of folks think are appropriate for their wedding sermon. I thought living with my mom when I was growing up was challenging and required patience. That was easy. I am learning that showing love, true Christian, Jesus-type love, to someone who does not know really HOW to love, is a gargantuan feat.  Impossible to do without prayer, without help, without God. It also helps to have a sense of humor, and to be able to journal my experiences as I am going through them.  

Through them. That sounds nice. Because the word "through" denotes there is an end somewhere. So, here is my situational, hopefully not irreverent interpretation of those famous verses in 1 Corinthians 13...

Love is patient, But seriously, how can it take 90 minutes to buy three things at CVS?

Love is kind, What?  Look at your colostomy bag to check for leaks?  Sure!  I'd love to!

It does not envy, not even your sisters for not being in your shoes

It does not boast about how my dogs don't poop on the floor 

It is not proud and continually reminding Mom about how much I do for her

It does not dishonor others by feeling entitled to special treatment or sympathy 

It is not self seeking -- I don't really need more than four hours of sleep anyway

It is not easily angered even when she needs me just as I lower myself into that nice, hot bath

It keeps no record of wrongs because moms never do any wrong, anyway, and then she'd forget if I told her, so what's the point?

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth, but when it comes to the location of her car keys, I will lie to her face

It always protects, as in not telling her where her keys are (you are welcome, driving public)

always trusts that the nurse will show up on time

always hopes that the ostomy bag will not spring a leak at 2 am

always perseveres because repeating myself constantly is good for my communication skills

Love never fails because so many things in life DO fail, we have to have one thing that doesn't

and then there is always chocolate....

Anger begets anger

Got in a verbal fight with my mom tonight. Got so upset and so hurt that I lashed back. Angry words, angry gestures, angry actions. Not pretty. Not productive. Not helpful. Not loving. Definitely not Christian behavior. Doesn't matter what started it.  

Why do I still seek her approval and her love? Or anyone else's for that matter? The only one whose approval I should seek is that of God...and He has already redeemed me, and is still sanctifying me through the work of His Holy Spirit. As long as I am being sanctified with His grace, to do His work, I should need no others.  

There are books and programs that will try to decipher and decode the complicated mother-daughter relationship.   

There are plenty of doctors and psychologists who want to put labels on anti-social behavior.  

Pharmaceutical companies are constantly marketing the newest antidote to whatever ails our body, our psyche, our emotions, on TV, the internet, and radio. Convincing us we are in control of our bodies, our lives, and that all we need is the right pill to fix any ills.  

There is only one Book to follow.  

Only One I need to please.

And I cannot do it alone.

Twelve days of christmas

On the first day of Christmas my mother gave to me, 

A barking growling dog named Benji

.......and so on..........

On the twelfth day of Christmas my mother gave to me

Twelve manic outbursts

Eleven loads of laundry

Ten ER visits

Nine "ow"s and "shut up"s

Eight leaking stomas

Seven joints a hurtin'

Six new prescriptions

Five G I A N T burps!

Four nurses calling, 

Three hours of sleep,

two soiled sheets, 

and

A BARKING, GROWLING DOG NAMED BENJI!

Anecdotes

Just when we thought we were getting used to our new "routine" of caring for my mom, Alex's mom had a heart attack.  As she happens to be the sole caregiver for a husband with advanced Parkinson's disease, this health crisis was catastrophic.  So, Alex got on his white horse and drove to the rescue, leaving me here with Mom and the dogs.  We have spoken at least once daily over the past two and half weeks, swapping funny anecdotes to make things seem less serious than they truly are (because we have enough seriousness going on).

Alex:  I'll call you back.  Dad decided to test the generator at 9 pm and it's a cluster here

Alex:  I am making meatloaf.
Mom:  Cannot eat that!  My diabetes!
Alex:  But you are eating ice cream and a sandwich and applesauce
Mom:  It is no sugar added

Me:  Mom are you hungry?  I can make you breakfast
Mom:  No.  I will just have my coffee and a muffin
Ten minutes later:  Will you make me eggs?

Alex:  Mom, I am making peas for dinner
Mom: I'm allergic to peas. I will eat mixed veggies
Alex:  There are peas in those.
Mom:  I know.

Me:  Mom why are you stripping your bed?
Mom:  Because it is Saturday
Me:  But we just changed the sheets two days ago!
Mom:  But it is Saturday.  I always change them on Saturday.

Alex:  Dad, the nurse is coming in the mornings to get you up.  Why are you already sitting up?
Dad:  Because I want to be up when she gets here.
Alex:  You never did that for me
Dad:  I know

Mom:  Quit coming in my room unannounced!
Me:  But I have to let your dog out to go potty.
Mom:  Well of course!  Don't be ridiculous.

Alex:  Mom, I am making pancakes for breakfast
Mom:  I cannot eat gluten Alex!  I will have my rice cereal
Alex:  Why are there peanut butter crackers under the cereal in your bowl?
Mom:  That's different.

Mom:  Give me my keys.  I want to drive my car to pick up my prescription.
Me:    Okay.  Call me later if you need anything
Mom (later):  Barbie can you pick up my prescription?  I am too scared to drive

Alex:  There are three refrigerators here, and two of them are full of ice cream and frozen dinners.

One night at dinner, the salt shaker fell into Mom's potatoes.  She promptly lifted it up and licked it off.  And put it back on the table.

All in all, it is interesting. It is hard.  But if you cannot laugh at these things, you'll go crazy.

Resistance

refusal to accept something new or different, effort made to stop or to fight against someone or something; the ability to prevent something from having an effect

Yep. Those short definitions courtesy of Merriam Webster say it all. Lots of resistance going on lately. Alex's mom insisting her heart attack changes nothing, refusing to accept new ways of doing things. Refusing help with the caregiving of her Parkinson's disease afflicted husband. Fighting her son and his ideas at every turn. 
Mom not accepting her ostomy as permanent. Resisting learning how to change the device because that would mean it IS permanent. Not allowing her pills to work. Fighting me and clinging to the hope of something better.  Holding onto grudges.  
Me hanging in to grudges with my mom and family and resisting the urge to get over it already. Pouting over my self imposed circumstances.  
Resisting. Pulling away. Refusing. Blocking. Fighting. None of those are positive terms. They all involve negative energy, meaning the energy used to resist is subtractive. Draining.  
Accepting. Embracing. Holding tight. Welcoming. Positive energy inducing.  Additive.   
Letting go and letting God steer my ship.  
Without resistance. 

Another day, another leak

Today I decided to escape for a while, so after letting all the dogs out twice, I left to go volunteer at my little store downtown for a few hours, and left Mom a note to call if she needed me. She did, but not until about 3 pm--asked me if I would pick up her prescription for her. Seems she is too scared to drive after all...

Anyway, Dr. Jekyll was back today--nice as pie, acting as if nothing happened.  I should be used to this after 60 years of it, but it still takes me by surprise, this one minute mad, the next minute nonchalant--it is unnerving how there is no rhyme or reason or pattern to the mood shifts. No, more than mood shifts. It is as if one person leaves, and the other comes in her place. There is no warning, no forecast of cloudy weather...it is just BOOM! 

I think I could handle it much better if it was always one or the other. But this uncertainty, the sheer unpredictability of her moods--it is madness. Sheer madness. We went out to eat, and it was as if we were a normal mother and daughter. No talk of the blow up yesterday.

Then her ostomy started leaking on the way home. Poop everywhere. Had to call the home health agency at 9:00 at night. Walked all the dogs out a couple times. Then had to reset a circuit breaker so I could do laundry.

I think I am developing an ulcer.

Mood swings

Today was mood swing day for Mom. She is normally moody anyway, to put it mildly. Always has been. Never knew what to expect--she made Jekyll and Hyde seem like the sugar plum fairy. Enough of that though--it is in the past. But I went into this knowing that, knowing what we have to deal with, knowing she really is incapable of loving anyone, least of all me. Knowing I would be the scapegoat for any and all emotional breakdowns. I can take it...with the grace of God and the help of my friends and my hubby.  

We just recovered from a two day snit from last week..Wednesday she blew up because I moved her furniture to make it safer and easier for her to get her walker through. By Friday it was as if nothing had happened. Today, she actually got upset because her dog peed on the basement floor, walking in it through it all over the basement,  and I had to clean it up. I didn't get upset or holler. I just took the mop downstairs and said "let's work on getting this little guy housebroken." Next thing I know she is refusing to go to her doctor appointment or get her antibiotic for an infection she has...one that took her to the ER Saturday. She demanded her car keys (she has not driven since she got here over two months ago), so I gave them to her--scary to think she may try to drive around here. I also gave her the application and information for two of the low cost senior apartments in the area. 

In trying to figure out the unfathomable, I realized both blow-ups coincided with a visit from one of the home health staff, but I am not sure if it was a reaction to a loss of independence vis a vis having home health here to do hygiene and stoma care, or if she acts out for the benefit of the nurses. Or both. Either way, I cannot control it, or manage it. All I can do is ignore it, and not react to it.  

Of course she always reverts to passive aggressive communication, coming upstairs after 5 hours of pouting to tell me "sorry I misled you by letting you think this was the place for me," and says I don't care, that she has to move out. Then she ate some ice cream, and sat down in a chair to watch TV. Next the bombshell...completely expected....asking for a couple of old photo albums. Knowing full well she would use them as barbs to ask why she has never been involved in our family activities, I fell on my sword and handed her the girls' wedding scrapbooks. Yup, enjoyed them for 30 minutes, then asked the question for which there is no answer, none she will listen to or understand, that is. "Why was I never invited to these things?  I'm your mother, their grandmother, why am I always excluded?" Yeah, there are so many answers to that question...and none are good answers.  

The reality is all of that is in the past, but my mom has always lived, no thrived, in the past. She is a perpetual victim, the quintessential Eyore. We never have resolved anything, not ever...not in 60 years. And probably never will. And I knew all this coming into this situation. And yet I still willingly signed up for this.  

Maybe I AM the one who is crazy!