My Thoughts on Nursing Homes… for you Chatter Master!

I just finished reading Chatter Master’s post, “I Just Hurtle”, and I almost replied.

Realizing, however, my reply was more of a rant I felt it best to just haul off and “post” my reply.

Why is it that Western society has offered nursing homes as a solution for our elderly loved ones?  The words, “she would be better off in a nursing home” are just so predictable that it makes me want to vomit.  Can we not come up with something better?

I remember feeling trapped in the same scenario when my Dad was recovering in the hospital from pneumonia.  The hospital staff and CCAC told Mom and I that they would not release Dad back to his home and the best thing to do was to put him in a nursing home.  He was simply, “too much” for my Mom to handle on her own.  Dad used to say to us, “If I ever get too unable to take care of myself – take me to the back 40 acres and shoot me.”  Well, that was not going to happen, but neither would it happen that I would EVER put Dad in a nursing home.

I’ll confess that there are some homes that have wonderful care – but so many of them are so understaffed that an individual resident is denied the full care they need and deserve… as Chatter Master commented… after working hard all their lives.

Thank God I work in a school that also offers PSW courses and so when Dad was put on the nursing home treadmill I got busy and solicited the assistance of Janine, the PSW teacher, to help us find home care.  And that’s when our journey began surrounded by angels.  Diane came into our lives first, followed by Tessie and then a barrage of other angels.  I refused to abandon Dad in a nursing home.

This home care was not without it’s pitfalls.  Mom lost her privacy somewhat, especially when Dad’s needs grew.  I was no longer able to just visit Mom and Dad – it was always Mom and Dad and … whoever was helping out that day.  But losing her privacy was such a small price to pay for keeping Dad where he wanted to be:  home.

Their home was wonderful and it was a place where my children would always want to go and visit.  They had sleep-overs.  Who can say they would send their children for a sleep-over in a nursing home?  I wouldn’t want to – I don’t even like going there to visit.

Dad’s bedroom at home was the place where he went to sleep for the final time.  Everyone was there.  What a blessing.  How peaceful that transition was!  He was home.

Mom taught me that we did not need to follow “doctor’s order” or hospital orders – that we could think for ourselves in terms of what we felt was right.

I refuse to believe our only option for caring for our loved “elders” is to put them in a nursing home.  Society needs to become more creative and not just do what we are told is our only option.  We need to keep our families united at home – not a nursing home.

How can this be accomplished?

I became my Dad’s primary care-coordinator.  I cooked for him, payed bills for him, cried with him, laughed with him, and changed him when I needed to.  It was difficult for he and I and it was difficult for my family to give me up.  This coordinator required that I was with Dad a lot.  But my Dad raised me and put his life on hold for me.  It was my turn to give back to him.  And I do NOT regret it.

I’d like to think I’ve taught my children that there are options.  I’d like to think I’ve taught my children that it is possible to die with dignity in your own home and that death is a natural part of life.  We tend, as a society, to hide death and believe it needs to happen in a “hospital”.  Death is something that needs to be addressed as a part of life.

Nursing homes must not be dumping grounds or considered the be all and end all solution for our elderly who are not able to care for themselves.

Mom and Dad were my teachers even through death.  And by keeping them home they were able to live a better quality of life until the very end.

I think we can do better than nursing homes.

What we need are caring homes and caring families willing to make some sacrifices.  Our seniors deserve better.

 

The Rainbow: It Only Comes After the Storm

My morning walk with Barb began with a message from Mom.  I didn’t notice it at first, nor did I put the pieces together until several houses into our walk.  It was Barb who first wanted to just “stop” and look at the rainbow.  It was Barb who said, “this is a gift”.  Her words flooded my soul and cleansed me as I understood this was a gift from Mom.  The rainbow meant, “Stacey – it will all be okay.   You can’t get the rainbow without first having the storm.”  I felt this rainbow was meant for me.  It was not meant for anyone else in the world – just me.  Of course that is ridiculous – but at the time Mom was speaking right to my soul.  And had Barb not knocked on my door to get me for our walk, I would have missed this message.

So true does this ring in life.  How often is it that the darkest moments we flood our brains with feelings of doom and gloom.  The storm brews.  There is chaos – emotional chaos.  Last night was my storm.  The feeling of having to take Mom’s dishes away from the condo was just too much.  They are only dishes to everyone else… but to my brother and myself they are so much more.

They were carried in Mom’s hands as an extension of her love to us.  She served us literally and figuratively on those dishes.  We needed the food as much as we needed her love – and both were served in generous quantities.

It takes time to organize an emotional storm into something that is beautiful – just as it takes time for the rain and sun to produce a rainbow.

The rainbow reminded me that when one door closes, a window opens.  The dishes will be moved from Mom’s loving reach at the condo today – to Mom’s loving reach in my own home.  It’s my turn.  Mom may no longer be literally serving us – but we have been well served with her memory.

TTFN, Mom

Everything about Mom was gentle.

I Just Called to Say…. I Love You

“I just called to say I love you,

I just called to say how much I care. ” (Stevie Wonder http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwOU3bnuU0k)

I remember this being another one of Dad’s favorite songs and he would sing it full kilter as he strutted his stuff around the room.  Mom would giggle and roll her eyes almost as though it was expected – and then join in with a broad smile that just would not be suppressed.

 

Dad, I can’t tell you how many times this week I’ve thought, “geez, I should call Dad”.

Tonight – you should be there to take my call don’t you know? I have so much to tell you.  You and Mom would have listened to me toot my own horn and actually been proud.

I don’t do that in front of anyone else for fear that they would think I was full of myself.

You and Mom were always proud of me – and were anxious to hear my stories – and I told you a lot.  My cheer-leaders.

I wish that if I were to dial your number that you would pick up.  I remember Dorothee saying the same thing that when you heard the phone ring – you’d hope that it were Mom.  Good grief.  What I wouldn’t give to get a call from you tonight.

I gave some of your things to Janine today as she had a good place for them – and I gave back the books that she had loaned to me – to help find you peace.  I still had a difficult time talking to her.  I guess it’s been two months since I lost you – but it’s only been two months.  So much has changed, yet, so much is the same.

I am having a great year at school so far, Dad.  You’d be so interested in the stories. I have so many wonderful students that are so keen to move their lives forward.  There are so many strong individuals who are just so anxious for a better life.  I can only hope that I can cheer them on as you and Mom were so good to do with me.

I talked about Mom and you in class today – I hope you don’t mind.  I think sometimes the frame of reference helps my students to see me as human.  I didn’t cry, though.  I only cried with Janine.  Well, and now that I’m talking to you.

You would be so proud of Ben, Kat, and David.  Each of them would fill you up with stories and adventures and you know you would have to prompt the boys – but Katya would be like a loose cannon – she is so good at telling me stories.

What an exciting time it is in our family – and I can’t share that with you…

But the “tic-tic-tic – swish – tic-tic-tic – swish” of the typewriter keyboard brings me back to reality.  Life goes on.  “When can we get a new ribbon, Mom?”  “Where is the key for Number one, Mom? ”  “I have to do a presentation about me, Mom, next week – what should I say?”

Dad, I wish you were here.  I know that you and Mom are still “with me” – but sometimes it just doesn’t cut the cake, if you know what I mean.  A voice would be nice.  A hug would be better.  Any physical contact would declare to me that you are still with me.  And yet – I know that it is not going to happen.  The phone call is not going to come.  You and I both waited for Mom’s phone calls.  So did Jamie.  We still do.

Dad – I wish you would just call to say, “I love you.”.

Stevie Wonder, don’t you know, would not be so pleased with you… guess we are going to have to make that song popular too!  And just when our crew thought it was safe to come back into the water after Snow Bird!  In all honesty – there is now a huge following of that song – thanks to you, Dad.

(Mom – no one knows the words to those Russian songs… or else we’d be singing them too!)

Good- night Mom and Dad.

TTFN

Nice to talk with you again.

I love you.

 

How Do I Love Thee?

I found another treasure!  This time, it is in the form of a book of poetry I gave to Mom in 1984 – for Mother’s Day (or so the inscription reads).  

Flipping through the pages I came across a poem that Mom and Dad used to quote to each other – at least the first few lines – often even through their marriage that I am familiar with the poem.  

Today – a tribute to Bill and Paula and the love they shared.  

 

How Do I Love Thee? (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.  I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight 

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. 

I love thee to the level of every day’s 

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. 

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints – I love thee with the breath, 

Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death. 

Firsts.. for the Second Time..

Today is the first time ..

• I’ve wished my oldest son, Happy Birthday, Ben! through a post…
• I’ve made Ben escargots for breakfast
• I’ve changed Mom’s recipe for cauliflower soup to suit my health-crazed daughter (that’s also the last time I’ll change it..)
• I’ve recognized how birthdays, as you age, can be opportunities
• I’ve been able to catch up on these posts
• I’ve sat under the gazebo this summer and had the morning dew drip on my back
• I’ve heard “Dad’s songbird” sing in the garden and not had him try to whistle the tune back to the bird
• I’ve realized that I’m holding onto Mom and Dad’s condo for sentimental sake
• I’ll shop for groceries in my 50th year
• I’ve weighed so much in my life.. other than being pregnant – too much celebrating so far this summer
• My parents have not called my child on the occasion of his birthday
• I’ve spelled occasion correctly for the first time
• I’ve seriously considered my ability to retire from teaching in five years
• I’ve rooted for a country to win a beach volleyball game (I’ve not really ever been a fan  – just no exposure till now)

But, should I be granted the gift of tomorrow and tomorrow, it will not be the first time..

• I will enjoy the company of my husband and children
• I will be served a morning coffee by my husband
• I will sip my coffee under the gazebo with my husband
• I will cry over coffee about my parents
• I will smile over coffee about my parents
• I will rejoice in my family
• I will wish my oldest son a wonderful birthday!
• I will prepared something “odd” for my son to eat as per his birthday request.
• I wish all of you some very happy firsts – may these bear repeating.

And once again, “TTFN”

Firsts

This is the first time my parents have not called me on my birthday.

This is the first time my mother-in-law has sung me happy birthday in Tukkie – Tukkie (not sure if that’s how it’s spelled)

This is the first time my husband and daughter have attended a visitation for a young girl whose life was tragically snatched at a too young age.

This is the first time I’ve been 49.

This is the first time I’ve been “without” words.  Sorry – this post will be short and sweet.  I would like, however, to say, “To all of you who have been following Dad’s/ my blog… “thank-you.”  It’s the first time I’ve publicly offered you my appreciation for all the feed-back you’ve given and “hits” Dad was so proud of while he was alive. Your support of this blog is one of the best birthday gifts I could receive… next only to the gift of my beautiful family.  I am truly blessed. ”

Cheers!  And…. TTFN

Lost

Stacey:  Dad, I feel a little lost today.

Dad:  I understand.  You have to change your routines, Stacey. 

Stacey:  I don’t remember what it felt like to have so much free time, Dad. 

Dad:  You’ll find yourself.  You were always so busy – it’s good to slow down.  Mom and I always worried about you. 

Stacey:  You took over the role of worrying when Mom passed away – and you worried about everyone and everything.  I gave the girls an “investment/ money management” magazine at the Nanny- Party the other day.  They really liked it. They talked about how you always encouraged them to not spend their money. 

Dad:  They have to be wise and not spend it all.  I always had to reign in your Mother’s spending or she would have spent the whole lot on the grandchildren.  How are they doing? 

Stacey:  Actually, Dad, they are doing very well.  You’d be so proud of them.  Ben is guarding at Johnson’s Beach today and Katya is working at Canadian Tire.  She has some really good stories to tell about her experiences.  

Dad:  And what is Ben going to do about school?

Stacey:  I don’t know yet.  Do you know?  Is that what you can now do is see the plan unfold? 

Dad:  I can’t tell you that.  You’ll have to wait. 

Stacey:  I can wait – sort of.  If I went to a psychic do you think I’d be able to talk to you and Mom? 

Dad:  I can’t answer that either.  

Stacey:  It’s so lonely without you, Dad.  I have such a wonderful family but like you said, you can only really talk to those who share your stories with you.  I feel lost.

Dad:  You’ll be okay.  Don’t be impatient, Stacey.  You always want things “right now”.  That was your Mother in you.  Patience is a virtue.  I had to learn to be patient and you can too. 

Stacey:  But it’s so difficult, Dad. 

Dad:  If everyone could do it – then it wouldn’t be so extraordinary.  You take care of that beautiful family of yours and stop thinking of me so often. 

Stacey:  It’s hard, Dad.  I really miss you.  And I miss Mom.  

Dad:  We are both here for you always, Stacey.  Remember look to the morning Sun and you’ll find Mom and I’m there in the wind – just watch for the trees to bow their heads.  You remember.  Think of the happy times.  That’s how I got through after your Mom passed away. 

Stacey:  I know, Dad.. “Who has seen the wind?”

Dad:  “Neither you nor I.  But when the trees bow down their heads..”

Both:  “The wind is passing by.”

Stacey:  TTFN, Dad.  

Dad:  TTFN

The “A Team”

July 5, 2012

It’s 7:55 pm and we (the angels and I) are all gathered to celebrate our success:  success in celebrating Mom and Dad’s life and our role in helping them to maintain their dignity … to the end.

I asked the ladies to contribute to this blog.  I wish I could capture the conversation live – but they speak too quickly and passionately – so – I ‘m asking that they capture a few words on this blog.  God bless these ladies as they speak… bring it on, girls!

I’ll start with this tag line:  Working with Bill and Paula was…

(Diane)  … an absolute pleasure.   I loved how Paula gave such easy direction and with so much encouragement.  It was so wonderful to be  a part of their journey and before long I began to feel like I was right at home.  I actually felt like I was home away from home.  It felt so good to know that I was needed and appreciated for doing just what came natural.  I can honestly say I always looked forward to going to work.  I remember having feel good moments – like sniffing the coffee beans before starting the coffee in the morning or having special moments sharing from the heart with Paula.

Oh – just a moment – Adrienne’s accusing me of writing a novel.  I’m sitting in a room with 9 other women trying to be serious  and they’re all sharing and I don’t want to miss out on the chit-chat, so this is taking time.  Oh, now there cheering and talking about who driving home!

Okay, back to where I was – I loved working here and the memories I will keep forever.   Bill and Paula’s team of girls is another reason to enjoy work.  I loved sharing and connecting each weekend.   Okay that’s it for me for now.  I’m passing the post to Adrienne.

(Adrienne) This is going to be short and sweet. I really enjoyed working  for Paula and Bill. I really enjoyed the most was having  breakfast  with them and  and talking about the old times .  I sit  here with my fellow angels and talk about  all kinds of stuff.  I finally had a glass of wine for Paula and Bill so cheers  to you guys !

(Ana) No Brandy??? Well Adrienne I must say Bill will always say ” you didn’t make the funny face yet ” as I always sniff to the bottle before pouring it in his glass.  I can still remember my first night working here Paula was offering a lot of food and she even said, “Ana can I make your bed here?”, but of course I didn’t let her do that (grin). I have many more stories to tell but to cut it short to give the girls more space for their lines. I could say I’m so lucky and thankful to be a part of this family and to work with them  Bill who was not only a good employer but a father to me because I stayed with Paula for two (2) weeks but I can say she’s a good mom…I missed you papaold…ttfn

(Heather) Well here it is Thursday night and I have missed my crib game with my Bill . I looked forward to every Thurs. Paula would laugh when we played and sometimes we would say, “there is a skunk coming in the door.”! After seven years I miss you and our games and walks outside around 2 blocks, not ready to get up yet give me half hour more(lol). So you are not gone you are just away. TTFN

(Tessie Frugal) To all the girls that Papa Bill and loving  Mom Paula have…We are all here, talking all the good things happen in our lives.  The most wonderful and great LOVE and help to us most especially after working with their family  for more than 3 years. I can’t say anything today but to say, my family and I say that we love you so much and thank you very very much.You are always in my heart.Tuck Tuck now. To Stacey you are our angel to help us always Thank you very much.

(Dorothee -the youngest)  I’ve only stayed here for a while but it seems like I’ve been here for a very long time… I’m very fortunate to have known Father Bill (what i called him)(grin), I’ve never met Paula but I’ve  heard a lot about her (kind-hearted and pretty). For Father Bill, you will always be in my heart and THANK YOU for being a father like to me, worrying during weekends (shopping too much) BOLOGNA… And THANK YOU BEAUTIFUL STACEY for making it all REAL….. TTFN Bill…

Mom’s Computer

Note:  Today’s post is written in my (Stacey’s) voice

t’s the calm before the storm.

I am at home with my family.  Kevin is out picking up a few random things we need for the visitation tonight.  Ben and Katya are still sleeping as they have both been burning the candle at both ends between writing final exams, working their jobs, helping out around the house, caring for me (for which I am so grateful), and grieving the loss of their Poppa.  David is up wearing his house-coat (because I am wearing mine) watching television.

I just finished downloading recent photos of Dad – and Mom (who passed away November 2010) off Mom’s computer.  I was so relieved that Kevin was able to open it as the computer had been locked.  It is most likely the battery was dead – but to me – memories were as good as erased.

Mom’s computer was full of recent images.  There were photos of birthday parties, dinner parties, special events… ordinary days.  And in each photo, Dad was smiling.  And in each photo, Mom was smiling.

Mom’s computer was the testimony to how much a part of our lives Dad was.  He was inside our house, outside our house, apart from the house, singing, laughing, eating, celebrating.

Mom’s computer unlocked history.  Family Christmases, Malloff reunions… oh my goodness.

More recently, Mom’s computer unlocked a world that only Dad and his care-givers knew.  There were no images of his “girls” getting him ready for bed – pouring the brandy, changing into pyjamas, putting on is slippers, preparing his “whistle” so that he could whistle for help in the middle of the night if help was needed, wishing him a ta-ta-for-now, and turning off the light.  But there were photos of Dad well rested, well dressed, and content.

There were no images of his “girls” getting him up in the morning – putting on his slippers, his house-coat, walking beside him as he used the walker through every step, giving him a shower, helping him shave, get his teeth ready, putting on clothes, preparing his “shakes”, sausages, eggs, pills, coffee.  But there were photos of Dad smiling and healthy and clean and content.

There were no images of his “girls” playing cribbage with him (and wondering who was going to skunk whom), reading the newspaper with him, playing cards with him, doing the crossword with him, going to walks with him, talking him to the pool and doing physiotherapy with him, talking with him about God, Mom, and family.  There were no images of him guiding the girls through their relationships, finances, education, and celebrations.  But there were photos of Dad smiling – knowing that he was respected as a person for his wisdom – knowing he had been a Dad when there was no Dad around for the girls.

Sometimes what is not seen is what is more important than what is seen.

Mom’s computer asked me to read between the lines to understand how happily Dad lived with Mom and then, how much happiness the girls brought to Dad through their care and stories.  Dad was not allowed to be sad – he did not want to be sad. He always told me when we talked about Mom, “Think of the happy times”.  He told me the girls helped him live through Mom’s death because they were always happy.

Mom’s computer revealed smiles – happy times.

A picture tells a thousand stories – if you read between the lines.

Thank-you for all you have given to my family and I, girls.  On behalf of Dad, I would like to thank Diane, Tessie, Adrienne, Heather, Mely, Abby, Ana, and Dorothee and all the other wonderful ladies (and Rou) who gave Dad quality of life.  God bless you all.  I am forever in your debt.

I Wait – Is Someone Waiting for Me?

Another day is dawning.  My mouth is so dry, but I am calm.  Still, what does the good Lord have in mind for me? Why am I hanging on?  Honestly, I am ready to go – but I’m not ready to go.  

Last night there was another party in my room.  My nurse, Jennifer, took over so that the family could sleep.  I know they must not have slept too well as they kept coming in every once in a while and chatted. They chatted a lot. Now, don’t get me wrong – I enjoy their chatting, but I also enjoy the silence.  Sometimes they sit and hold my hand.  I love the feeling of someone touching me.  They know I am in here.  I can hear them – I just can’t respond. 

I used to be the entertainer, the one to tell jokes and the one to sing songs.  I cannot for the life of me get those sounds to come out of my mouth.  The air comes in and the air goes out… and that’s the sound they hear.  I know it scared my grandchildren a bit to see me like this – but their parents reassured them that my journey is one that is not painful.  It is part of life.  God, how I wish Paula had this exit opportunity. I am comfortable in my own home – this is my bed – I know these sounds of birds chirping, of skateboards passing down the street.  Thank goodness no noisy motorcycles yet.  

The sun is rising – I feel the warmth on my face.  My limbs are still warm, but I’m getting tired of being in the same place – the girls turn me every once in a while but it hurts.  All I can do is groan.  But they know and they are gentle.  God bless their care.  

I hear the birds.  

I lost Paula on November 12, 2010 at 7 in the morning.  Is that my time? I know I’ll be called… but when?  

I love my family.  I hear, “I love you Dad”, and I tell their hearts, “I love you too”.  You are never to old to learn, don’t you know – I just learned a new language:  the language of heart.  I communicate without speaking or seeing.  I think I get it.  Maybe that’s why I’m still here – I’m preparing to speak without needing my body.  Is that it?  

I’m tired.  I am breathing.  I am relaxed.  I wait.