(mom and caa)
I spent most of Monday with Mom, leaving for lunch and after dinner.
Tuesday my sister spent much of the time. I stayed with Mom while Dad went to "his" bar for a beer. He didn't stay long.
Wednesday i'll show up about lunch time and then stay until my sister brings my brother from his flight that lands at 11 pm. Assuming all is calm, i'll attend my ADHD mindfulness class.
I was a little out of sorts Tuesday: one likely cause is a exchange i had with Dad Monday that did not sit easy. Dad has his charms but he can also be terribly thoughtless.
I'm surprised by -- and worried about -- and thankful for -- how stable Mom is. She seems likely to make it past my brother and her sister's arrival. Random Internet Page says that terminally ill people using little energy can last weeks without water and food.
Christine and i pondered a little the people living to just after the arrival of someone special, and her ache that her mother died before she could make it to her bedside.
Dad has talked about how amazing the medical understanding at this time is. Having the technical ability to scan someone's brain and understand how the bleeding is related to the rest of the brain and be able to make a prognosis is truly amazing. Not so long ago, we might have been at her bedside not knowing if she was going to wake up or not? And in the not knowing, possibly having more invasive interventions that would turn out futile. Having the certainty the scans bring -- i looked at the imagery last night -- allows us to gather as we are. My aunt was sharing her memories of her father's death and the not-knowing.
Christine's sister visited with Dad and I, then Laura and Elsa, and told Christine she could see how much more affected Laura is than I. I've wondered how affected i would be at Mom's death, since the stroke, as i observed my emotional detachment. As the dementia and stroke have taken away her anxiety and a large amount of her anger, i have had a sorrow in seeing the mother i could have had, in seeing the woman my Dad loved all those years. He speaks of how happy they've been the past three years with a sort of guilty thankfulness for the happiness that came at such an apparently high cost to Mom. This morning, as i recited my centering guided meditation, i came to tears.
I have not invited my mother to join me in my meditation the way i invited my grandmother. And ... do i want to? Who is my mother? The gentle sweetness of these past years? (As long as you weren't asking her to put on her brace or do her exercises or use the toilet?) The person spreading toxic bitterness generated by the debilitating anxiety and inner turmoil? (I learned a water meditation to be with Mom for some years, letting her "talk" to me while i drank water and visualized the water flushing all the toxins from my system.)
I introduced my mother to labyrinth walking meditations: maybe that is where to look for her in the future. And i can bring one of the palm sized engraved labyrinths to have with me tonight. I haven't had to protect myself from Mom for years and years. I've wondered how much was the trauma therapy and how much was her dementia beginning. (Distance helped, although when Christine transitioned distance was not sufficient to protect us.) I can trust, though, that i can continue to be protected from the toxicity while remaining open to the gentle sweetness.
[Do i believe in spiritual visitations of deceased family members? I don't think it matters. I don't particularly believe individuals keep individuality after death instead of becoming part of the Whole That Is, but i'm not particularly invested in a belief one way or the other. My father has had intense and ongoing experiences of visitation, and his mother had vivid experiences as well. I am very open to the experiences and don't feel the need to have a belief or explanation for them. It is meaningful for me to examine whether i am open to visitation from my mother, whether memory or spirit. I believe i have control over the openness, but not control over the experience if it is allowed, thus my ponderings.]
Tuesday my sister spent much of the time. I stayed with Mom while Dad went to "his" bar for a beer. He didn't stay long.
Wednesday i'll show up about lunch time and then stay until my sister brings my brother from his flight that lands at 11 pm. Assuming all is calm, i'll attend my ADHD mindfulness class.
I was a little out of sorts Tuesday: one likely cause is a exchange i had with Dad Monday that did not sit easy. Dad has his charms but he can also be terribly thoughtless.
I'm surprised by -- and worried about -- and thankful for -- how stable Mom is. She seems likely to make it past my brother and her sister's arrival. Random Internet Page says that terminally ill people using little energy can last weeks without water and food.
Christine and i pondered a little the people living to just after the arrival of someone special, and her ache that her mother died before she could make it to her bedside.
Dad has talked about how amazing the medical understanding at this time is. Having the technical ability to scan someone's brain and understand how the bleeding is related to the rest of the brain and be able to make a prognosis is truly amazing. Not so long ago, we might have been at her bedside not knowing if she was going to wake up or not? And in the not knowing, possibly having more invasive interventions that would turn out futile. Having the certainty the scans bring -- i looked at the imagery last night -- allows us to gather as we are. My aunt was sharing her memories of her father's death and the not-knowing.
Christine's sister visited with Dad and I, then Laura and Elsa, and told Christine she could see how much more affected Laura is than I. I've wondered how affected i would be at Mom's death, since the stroke, as i observed my emotional detachment. As the dementia and stroke have taken away her anxiety and a large amount of her anger, i have had a sorrow in seeing the mother i could have had, in seeing the woman my Dad loved all those years. He speaks of how happy they've been the past three years with a sort of guilty thankfulness for the happiness that came at such an apparently high cost to Mom. This morning, as i recited my centering guided meditation, i came to tears.
I have not invited my mother to join me in my meditation the way i invited my grandmother. And ... do i want to? Who is my mother? The gentle sweetness of these past years? (As long as you weren't asking her to put on her brace or do her exercises or use the toilet?) The person spreading toxic bitterness generated by the debilitating anxiety and inner turmoil? (I learned a water meditation to be with Mom for some years, letting her "talk" to me while i drank water and visualized the water flushing all the toxins from my system.)
I introduced my mother to labyrinth walking meditations: maybe that is where to look for her in the future. And i can bring one of the palm sized engraved labyrinths to have with me tonight. I haven't had to protect myself from Mom for years and years. I've wondered how much was the trauma therapy and how much was her dementia beginning. (Distance helped, although when Christine transitioned distance was not sufficient to protect us.) I can trust, though, that i can continue to be protected from the toxicity while remaining open to the gentle sweetness.
[Do i believe in spiritual visitations of deceased family members? I don't think it matters. I don't particularly believe individuals keep individuality after death instead of becoming part of the Whole That Is, but i'm not particularly invested in a belief one way or the other. My father has had intense and ongoing experiences of visitation, and his mother had vivid experiences as well. I am very open to the experiences and don't feel the need to have a belief or explanation for them. It is meaningful for me to examine whether i am open to visitation from my mother, whether memory or spirit. I believe i have control over the openness, but not control over the experience if it is allowed, thus my ponderings.]