Epilogue

     I have not written in this blog for a long time.  Ma went into the hospital at the end of June and has been in an assisted living residence since September of this year, 2010.  The 2 months in the hospital were difficult as I had to refuse to take her home when her immediate physical ailments were treated.  This left me open to all forms of pressure from the "Sisters of Charity Hospital".  They certainly didn't seem very charitable to me.  They tried shaming me into taking her home in spite of my inability to provide her with 24 hour supervision that she needed.  Ma is not that bad physically, but she has vascular dementia.  This affects every aspect of her life and puts her in great danger when she is alone.  Her eccentricities and lack of cognitive ability need some form of regular guidance to insure her safety.  The social workers at the hospital informed me that Ma was incompetent and then wanted to send her home where she would only be cared for sporadically by me.  Quite frankly, by that time I was totally worn out and had nothing left to give.  I hadn't slept soundly in the 6 years I took care of her, the last year taking care of her and staying with my father in his final months of his life.  In the words of "Lilly Von Schtupp", "Let's face it I'm pooped".   The final months of Ma's care included chasing off imaginary intruders and bugs that she saw all over her walls at night.  Kind of spooky and heartbreaking.  The social workers at the hospital suggested that I was treating her with extreme cruelty by not taking her home.  It is hard to hold up under those types of attacks when your focus is on doing what is best for your loved one and you feel guilty as hell already.  Thank God I had the support of my brother who stepped up to the plate and handled the final negotiations when I ran out of patience.

     Ma was placed in a residence 75 miles from where we all live but the people at the facility are awesome.  I don't think I would move her if I could.  In these days of poor eldercare I feel blessed that Ma fell into their care.  They have treated her and all of us with respect and dignity.  Ma is not happy but she is comfortable and has a lot of freedoms she did not have with me in the city.

     Ma was on the "Watch List" for 2 month's as she was considered a flight risk, a wanderer with undefined intent.  Immediately upon being removed from the "List" my brother went to visit and she was not in her room.  He walked the halls and when he was unable to find her he reported this to the nurses' station.  The facility went on high alert and was locked down.  Attendants walked the grounds and couldn't find her and it was assumed she had wandered off.  A second check of her room found it still empty, but on the way out Ma emerged from the bathroom where she was doing her laundry in the sink. She won't use the facility laundry service as she is more than a little distrustful.  I guess that having her ditties in the hands of some imagined pervert is too much for her to accept.  Anything that easy has to have something wrong with it.  So she sneaks into the bathroom and does it herself and hangs them on the back of her tri-fold dressing curtain so no one can see.  Everyone knows and just leaves it alone.  If she wants to get some vicarious pleasure out of breaking the rules that is one that is ok in their book.  Better than if she was running naked through the halls or inciting a riot.  She is described by everyone as a sweet lady with peculiar habits, but peaceful.

     The most disturbing thing to me is the decline of Ma's cognitive abilities.  She is stuck in 1951 and repeats the same things over and over again, each time like it was the first time and I fear she will pass into the locked part of the facility with less freedoms sooner than I am ready for.  Her spirit is diminished and she has a few rehearsed lines granting everyone amnesty for perceived injustices that belie the truth that she is mad about getting old and not being able to do what she used to do.  She is ready to go but her maker hasn't made her reservation for the final ride.  We watch as her life force ebbs away and wish her life had been happier.  The ultimate martyr, giving up her life for her children,  allowing that quest to become the sole definition of her being.  A noble undertaking for a Irish Catholic Maven whose upbringing  insured that responsibility, duty and guilt would insure happiness in the hereafter.  I wish she would have been more concerned with the here, the present, her life.  I would have preferred she lived out loud and fully and her current life came to an end while skydiving or drowning while swimming naked in the reflecting pool at the Washington Monument, something fun.  The loneliness of her decline is intensified by her deafness and her lack of socialization skills.  She has always avoided plain old social contact as some kind of self-inflicted punishment for being Catholic.  God love her.

     We all took the 1-1/2 hour trip to the retirement residence and brought a turkey dinner in for a small family feast.  The staff was fabulous and helped in every way possible.  There is a small kitchen/dining area for private family gatherings and they insured everything was just right for our visit.  Ma was uplifted by the presence of the grandchildren but quickly settled into a disconsolate funk, speaking little and hunched over.  Her appetite is better than I recall and she looks fit physically but I fear for her emotional and cognitive health.  Being deaf leaves her living in her own head,  discerning the intent of all social interactions with a mind that is indeed failing.  What a horribly lonely end to a dutiful life.

    I hope to get to see her at least one more time before Christmas.  On Christmas Eve I plan on brining a small re-plantable Christmas tree for her holiday, in addition to some holiday flowers.  I am the only one in a position to visit that day as my brother and my children have responsibilities of their own.  If I could give her anything for Christmas it would be "One Great Day".  Free from regret and loneliness, free from physical limitations, free for one day to be herself and not thinking about anyone else.  Merry Christmas Ma.