Monday, September 12, 2005
Don't ask me how or why...
...but we got her moving today. She walkered around the grocery on a short trip and did pretty well. Here's a description of our sojourn. She did well. Applause, please.
There's a funny little sugar vignette from last night over at the daily tests site, too, that might interest you.
I ordered a spoken dvd of The King James version of the Christian Bible for us. She's always been thoughtful and contemplative about religion, specifically hers, which is Methodist Christianity. A couple of her ancestors were Methodist ministers: One a fire and brimstone circuit rider; his son, a milder, Victorian-type Methodist minister. One of her aunts was a deaconess. She has taken every opportunity throughout her life to study Christian scripture, scripture of other religions and spirituality in general. She considers herself, without doubt, a Christian but waffles on such fundamental Christian beliefs as the divinity of Christ, original sin and the necessity of believing that Jesus was "the Son of God". A few months ago, since I also like to ponder religion, spirituality and scripture, it occurred to me that we might enjoy going through the Christian Bible together. I wasn't sure that reading and discussing would be the way but when I saw an advertisement for this DVD I thought it would be worth a try. I was more than right. It arrived today and we're on the 23rd chapter of Genesis. Although I expected discussion I'm surprised at how alive and lively this presentation has rendered my mother. Once she understood that the DVD could be stopped and picked-up where we left off, she initiated regular stop-for-discussion breaks which I now initiate, too. Our plan is: Little by little we'll go through the whole Christian bible. Both she and I have read the entire Christian bible at least once. We have several books and reference materials laying around specific to these scriptures, including comparative texts involving the other Abrahamic religions. We're making plans for a trip to the shed to find some of this material so we'll have it handy for further discussion. I'm so pleased I thought of this.
Today we had an interesting episode which I introduced in today's Breakfast Stat review over at the Mom's Daily Tests & Meds site. She forgot that Dad, my dad, was dead. We spent a good hour reviewing everything I knew about his illness and death including all events throughout his life that led up to it. We talked about the little we knew about his family history that might have lead him to his particular death: Emotional atmospheres inherited and taught; how his brothers and sisters appeared to have reacted to these; why of all five of the siblings only one, his older sister (the oldest of all of them) rejected the emotional atmospheres that caused all the others to die when they were in their 60s, thus she lived into her 80s. This led to a detailed discussion of Mom's siblings and speculation about why both of them chose behaviors that fairly guaranteed early (for my mother's family), difficult deaths. I think discussions like these allow Mom to ponder the possibilities inherent in her own death and allow her to consider the inevitability of her death from an objective position she prefers which keeps her death figuratively, and probably literally, at bay. I'm pleased to do this for her. I think, although she would probably deny it, that she may have felt closer to death a few times in the last two years than she is comfortable feeling and needs some space and company to work out her ambivalence and wrestle with her sense of her own immortality (that's right, immortality; my mother continues to not believe in her own death). Maybe this is why the subject comes up so much through the strategy of forgetting the deaths of loved ones and having to be reminded, thus allowing her, once again, to talk about death from a comfortable remove.
There's something I've been meaning to mention, too: A conversation we had a couple of days ago. Prior to her nap when she was sitting on her bed, I was, once again, delivering mild harrassment regarding her lack of moving. At one point I started sobbing, I couldn't help myself, and told her the reason I couldn't let the subject go was because I was afraid that if she lost the use of her legs and became severely disabled I wouldn't have the ability to take care of her and I didn't want this to happen.
She gazed at me through a haze of pure beatitude and said, "Don't worry, Gail, you'll always be able to take care of me. Nothing will happen to me that you can't handle."
It was as though a powerful god had spoken these words to me through her. I believe her and am much calmed through this belief. I'm not worried anymore about any further disabilities that may afflict her. Not that I believe they won't happen. What I now believe is that if they do I'll be able to handle them because she knows I will. She's correct: I have an uncanny knack for rising to the occasion. She has a right to believe that I will continue to do so on her behalf from now to her death because, well, because I have and I will.
I think the confidence that underlies competent caregiving is a product of the relationship between the caregiver and the one receiving care. Lucky am I that my mother's and my relationship in these days inspires confidence in both of us.
There's a funny little sugar vignette from last night over at the daily tests site, too, that might interest you.
I ordered a spoken dvd of The King James version of the Christian Bible for us. She's always been thoughtful and contemplative about religion, specifically hers, which is Methodist Christianity. A couple of her ancestors were Methodist ministers: One a fire and brimstone circuit rider; his son, a milder, Victorian-type Methodist minister. One of her aunts was a deaconess. She has taken every opportunity throughout her life to study Christian scripture, scripture of other religions and spirituality in general. She considers herself, without doubt, a Christian but waffles on such fundamental Christian beliefs as the divinity of Christ, original sin and the necessity of believing that Jesus was "the Son of God". A few months ago, since I also like to ponder religion, spirituality and scripture, it occurred to me that we might enjoy going through the Christian Bible together. I wasn't sure that reading and discussing would be the way but when I saw an advertisement for this DVD I thought it would be worth a try. I was more than right. It arrived today and we're on the 23rd chapter of Genesis. Although I expected discussion I'm surprised at how alive and lively this presentation has rendered my mother. Once she understood that the DVD could be stopped and picked-up where we left off, she initiated regular stop-for-discussion breaks which I now initiate, too. Our plan is: Little by little we'll go through the whole Christian bible. Both she and I have read the entire Christian bible at least once. We have several books and reference materials laying around specific to these scriptures, including comparative texts involving the other Abrahamic religions. We're making plans for a trip to the shed to find some of this material so we'll have it handy for further discussion. I'm so pleased I thought of this.
Today we had an interesting episode which I introduced in today's Breakfast Stat review over at the Mom's Daily Tests & Meds site. She forgot that Dad, my dad, was dead. We spent a good hour reviewing everything I knew about his illness and death including all events throughout his life that led up to it. We talked about the little we knew about his family history that might have lead him to his particular death: Emotional atmospheres inherited and taught; how his brothers and sisters appeared to have reacted to these; why of all five of the siblings only one, his older sister (the oldest of all of them) rejected the emotional atmospheres that caused all the others to die when they were in their 60s, thus she lived into her 80s. This led to a detailed discussion of Mom's siblings and speculation about why both of them chose behaviors that fairly guaranteed early (for my mother's family), difficult deaths. I think discussions like these allow Mom to ponder the possibilities inherent in her own death and allow her to consider the inevitability of her death from an objective position she prefers which keeps her death figuratively, and probably literally, at bay. I'm pleased to do this for her. I think, although she would probably deny it, that she may have felt closer to death a few times in the last two years than she is comfortable feeling and needs some space and company to work out her ambivalence and wrestle with her sense of her own immortality (that's right, immortality; my mother continues to not believe in her own death). Maybe this is why the subject comes up so much through the strategy of forgetting the deaths of loved ones and having to be reminded, thus allowing her, once again, to talk about death from a comfortable remove.
There's something I've been meaning to mention, too: A conversation we had a couple of days ago. Prior to her nap when she was sitting on her bed, I was, once again, delivering mild harrassment regarding her lack of moving. At one point I started sobbing, I couldn't help myself, and told her the reason I couldn't let the subject go was because I was afraid that if she lost the use of her legs and became severely disabled I wouldn't have the ability to take care of her and I didn't want this to happen.
She gazed at me through a haze of pure beatitude and said, "Don't worry, Gail, you'll always be able to take care of me. Nothing will happen to me that you can't handle."
It was as though a powerful god had spoken these words to me through her. I believe her and am much calmed through this belief. I'm not worried anymore about any further disabilities that may afflict her. Not that I believe they won't happen. What I now believe is that if they do I'll be able to handle them because she knows I will. She's correct: I have an uncanny knack for rising to the occasion. She has a right to believe that I will continue to do so on her behalf from now to her death because, well, because I have and I will.
I think the confidence that underlies competent caregiving is a product of the relationship between the caregiver and the one receiving care. Lucky am I that my mother's and my relationship in these days inspires confidence in both of us.
