Endings and Beginnings

 It's been busy here.  A bit of reno but most of the busy has been my mom and my youngest son KC.  It's a story of endings and beginnings.  Mom is 90 and has lived two states away from us for more than 25 years.  Til recently it has not been a problem.  But as she ages it has become more of a concern to me. She lives on a second floor and has to also go to the basement down some very sketchy steps to do laundry.  If she needs help she is 2.5 hours from us. During Covid lock down we could not travel to her.  I began to realize that this was a situation that should change.  She did too, but it is hard for her.  

She has lived in this apartment for 20 or so years.  It holds memories and lots  of stuff.  Not in a hoarding way, but more than she needs and can realistically care for. It is a two bedroom so she has a room that is just a study with two desks and file cabinets.  Again, more than she needs but that is hard to say to someone.

About 8 months ago she did agree to apply at the high rise where I work.  Her name came up more quickly than anticipated and it looks like she will move in this month.  The process has produced some excitement for her---the idea of being close to the grandkids and my wife and I,the prospect of attending church with me have been happy thoughts for her.  The idea of an elevator so she does not have to do stairs has been a plus.  But there are also things that produce anxiety.  The very act of moving and realizing that all she owns will.not.fit.  She will be moving to a lovely one bedroom apartment.  There is a great view of a pond and she is close to two city parks and will be able to enjoy nature which is great.  But again, a one bedroom unit.  To try and alleviate the stress I have rented a storage unit.  We will store things she is unsure about and/or which don't fit in the new apartment there.  She can "audition" some of her furniture by doing this.  For instance the woman has two kitchen tables.  One she presently keeps in the front hall of the apartment building. She can't do that in the new place.  She can try one of them in the apartment and we will store the other one.  If she doesn't like the first one, we will swap them.  The one that ultimately is not chosen we can donate or put on marketplace.  It will be the same with the two desks, and other items that she feels unable to decide about.  This has helped calm her a bit.

She is realizing that she does not want to drive in a new city and is considering giving up her car.  At 90 I think that is a good thing.  She is close enough when she moved that I was planning on taking her shopping anyway.  She is grieving the loss of what she once had--the ability to walk at the oceans edge, gatherings with work and church friends ---many who have passed on now or who are less capable than she is.  It is good for her to move but also so hard.  It is a reminder that the wheel of life keeps turning and time on this plane is finite.  It is hard for me too, as she is obviously less capable these days and not the Mom or Nana of years past.

But this is also a season of beginnings.  KC has applied at three colleges.  His intent is to major in dance and minor in film.  He has been accepted all ready at two of the three.  His top choice school, which also offers an amazing financial award toward his tuition and his third choice school which offers a modest award toward tuition.  He has not heard from the second choice but interviews with them this week.  My gut is that he will go with the top choice school but he wants to tour all three and make his decision from that.  All the schools are in our state and within 90 minutes of our home.  He knows he does not want to be further than that from home as family is his touchstone in a very deep way.  February is not only a time of moving Mom to a new apartment but also filled with weekends of the college tours.  

I am so excited for him.  This is his dream and he is chasing it with vigor and purpose.  It is also hard.  Hard to imagine him not in the house every night.  Or here when I get home from work, asking how my day was.  Or dropping him off at dance.  He is so intensely woven into the fabric of family life, that this will be a big adjustment for us all here as well.  This is absolutely what every parent wants for their child, but oh I am still going to be crying into my pillow when he leaves.

Visiting Mom!

 December 2019.  That was the last time we saw my mom in Maine.  We went up for a Christmas visit.  It was wonderful.  The world was pre-covid.  We laughed, hugged, ate, and the kids and I planned to return in March for the annual Maple Sugar celebration. We'd visit with her and then visit sugar houses before returning to our state.

Then. . . covid.  I remember my mom calling me in March.  The world had not quite shut down yet.  I was still not grasping (as were many folks) how big the covid threat was and how it would impact our lives.  Mom told me she did not want me to visit.  I was shocked but said I understood and would not ever want to put her at risk. Covid still seemed distant and far away.  A couple days after that you could no longer travel from my state to hers and the Maple Sugar Festival was cancelled.  As was most of 2020.

We spent that year keeping in touch by phone, by email, by Facebook and by text. We sent cards and small gifts to her and to G who had lived with her for many years.  It was so worrisome.  For the first time, if something happened to her I would be unable to help.  I could not drive there.  I would not be able to visit if she was hospitalized. There was an undercurrent of helplessness all the time.  

So much happened in that time.  My kids grew.  My middle son moved out of the house. We lost two beloved pets.  G. passed away.  

Yesterday was the first time we could visit together safely.  My wife, myself and KC are all fully vaccinated. Chet is 1/2 vaccinated. Elisabeth is not yet eligible. My mom is vaccinated as well.  We had chet and Elisabeth wear masks for safety but it was still a wonderful wonderful day.  We washed her windows and hung her spring curtains. My wife cleaned her bathroom as mobility has become an issue for her and she can not readily do somethings that were once common place for her.  We ate and laughed. We hugged.  We cried. We laughed. We hugged some more.

Humans are meant to touch each other.  Stealing that from us was one of the hardest things about covid.  I did not even feel comfortable hugging or kissing my wife until we were vaccinated as I work in an environment where I have been exposed to covid multiple times. 40% of my staff had it.  I am part of the lucky 60% that did not.  I credit masks and washing hands frequently. 

So today I am grateful to be able to hug, to laugh and to be present fully with those I love.

KC and Fathers Day

On the way back from our city's downtown festival, KC and I had a chance to talk. I knew something was bothering him. I could tell this morning.  It's just that thing you sense as a parent. Nothing specific, Just a set to his shoulders, a quietness that is at odds with his personality.  I had asked him earlier if things were okay and he said he'd talk to me later.

Walking was a good way to talk. It was just us. But we were moving, yet walking meant staying sort of in synch and step with each other.  It was sort of a way of being connected without looking and touching much. So with his hair brilliantly pink--a breast cancer fundraiser thing he did at the festival--we walked and talked.

He wanted to tell me how hard this weekend is.  Fathers Day advertising has apparently been beating him over the head the past week and it has reached the point where it was very painful.  If I listened to ads, I would have noticed that.  As it was, I was late buying my card for my FIL so clearly I was off my game.

For KC we know nothing about his dad. We have been able to find Mom Y and make contact but there are painful circumstances surrounding his father.  I have not shared those with KC.  I know someday I will have to.  I know I have read that our kids are more resiliant that we think and that they would rather know even a bad thing (and in this case it is a REALLY) bad thing than what they imagine.  But I am absolutely positive that this is not a level of knowledge this guy is ready for.

What I am grateful for is that he was comfortable sharing. My kids all understand that I have no relationship with my father.  My FIL is 'Dad' to me. But KC wisely said that his pain was different.  "At least you know what your dad looked like" he said.  "And even though he was a jerk and doesn't love you, you know that."  "I don't even know if my dad is black."

And he is right.  There is pain in the lack of love that my father has for me.  But I have a sense of identity.  I know my father's family, at least vaguely.  I have a sense of my heritage. For him, there isn't that.  He has decided that he does not want to ask Mom Y if she can share anything about his father.  He is afraid that it might be painful for her and that it would in his words "ruin any chance of a relationship" with her.

It really was a time when all I could do was hug him and tell him I knew he hurt and that I loved him.  It's not the kind of hurt I can heal, but I can be with him while he struggles.  I hope that helps.

Aging Parents

The other part of the wheel turning is the changes in our aging parents.  My mom, a fiercely independent woman who lives 2 states away from us, has begun to have more significant cardiac  issues.  A thankfully mild heart attack resulted in a lot of tests this fall.  The verdict was a clog that would not be well treated by a stint.  She is on medications instead and doing pretty well, but I can see that her energy level is less.  She lives on the second floor but thankfully had a chair lift installed for her second husband and is now able to use that for herself.

For the first time in my kids most recent memories, she did not feel able to come down to spend Christmas with us. Instead we drove up there on Christmas Eve to spend the day with her and exchange gifts.  We all had a great time and the kids all agreed that the Christmas Eve outing was something very special.

While I don't think she is likely to pass on  immenently, it will happen.  And heart will likely play a role.  Heart disease runs strongly on both sides of my family--it was my major impetus to a vegetarian lifestyle over 25 years ago. Talking about Nana's heart issues has been very hard for 2 of my kids.  One older one was very angry over how long it took for all the tests to happen and to be evaluated.  Another was fearful and clingy, desperately afraid that his Nana would not be there to see certain milestones and events.  Of course I can not say with certainty that she will, but there is also no reason to live our life assuming that she won't.  And living in that way is not living richly.

So we talked a lot about the wheel of life and living each day with anyone, as fully as possible.  Time spans are not assured for any of us, we just notice it more keenly with those whose lives most intimately touch our own.

My father in law is also aging.  Thus far he has done well, still works part time, still bowls with his friends on a local league, still active in his church.  His hearing has deteriorated a bit, but of most concern is his vision.  I drove with him last year and his driving was to be frank--scary.  He is a big city person, driving at big city speeds, with a seniors reaction time.  It was not good.  This past year he had a hard time passing the vision test for his license and had to go to his eye doctor.  He was cleared to drive but his doctor asked that he significantly limit his night driving.  Dad was very shaken by this.  He loves to drive and sees the loss of driving as a huge loss of independence.  Thankfully that has not happened to him yet, but it is likely to be so in the future and helping him deal with this will be very hard.