What if I would bring my mother home to live with us? THAT would be a new edge.
I originally started out blogging this year with ice skating in mind. That was my edge. And it was life-changing for me, inside and out. But I encountered a setback with my ankle and so I turned to blogging about life on crutches. An edge I would prefer not to experience.
I’m off crutches now but I’m still healing and tired of writing about crutches. You’re probably tired of reading about it too. I can’t skate yet, so I won’t be writing about that either. Hopefully, I can return soon. I'm now allowed to exercise from the knees up. That should be interesting.
So thus begins my new line of thought. This will be a very crazy journey. But since there is a growing amount of readers, like you, who are participating in my journey, I have come to love sharing my thoughts in the blog. I love the feeling of this community. You offer support and insight that is personally very valuable.
So back to my question: What if I would bring my elderly mother home to live with us? What if I could help usher her into her next phase of life, eternal life, with love and special care.
I have so many questions and thoughts churning in my heart and mind, as you can imagine. I am sure this is a troubling question for many of us who have aging parents. What is the right thing to do? I suppose that I might make a decision that everyone won’t agree with either, but I’m taking that chance.
Someone recently came across an older blog post and sent me this message through an email. It was pretty timely because I haven’t heard from them for years and they have no idea what I have been contemplating. I don’t know what the outcome will be, but I feel like I need to pursue this and see where God takes it. So here’s what I’m doing…….
- Talking with my husband, researching the possibility and gathering information. It always affects our family when we live on the edge.
- Contacting friends and family to see if anyone might be able to help me care for her.
- Meeting with the Office of Aging to find out what resources there are for this type of adventure. I found out there is a whole program for this type of transition.
- Meeting with Hospice.
I close with the message I received in response to “Crutch, Crutch, Goose”.
I was searching some things on the Net today and happened upon your site, and the blog, "Crutch, crutch, goose". It touched me deeply. My mother had a severe stroke at age 72, in 1998, which left her completely left side paralyzed and wheelchair bound. It changed her life and our life forever. This was very traumatic for our family since she was "our rock" and so independent. We cared for her, at her home or in our home, until she went to be with her Lord in 2011. I then continued to care for my 95 year old father until he went home in March of 2013. I resigned my job of 16 years and slowed down our ministry to do what I felt I needed to do. I absolutely have no regrets.
During this process and the many years of caregiving, I wrote the following. It has comforted me on many occasions, and I'm hoping it can be an encouragement and comfort to you also. I hope you do not mind me sharing this, but I felt compelled to do so.
Just as they once shielded us, we now begin to shield them. Their eyes become a little dimmer, their walk a little more unsteady, and their talk a bit softer. Slowly they begin to slip through our fingers. No matter what we do or how much we offer, each smile, each step, and each word takes more effort than before.
Who are these people who take so much of our time and unknowingly tear our hearts in two? They are called mom and dad; mother and father; grandma and grandpap; nanna and pappap. They are the forgotten ones of our new technological generation. The ones who have somehow become acquainted with the daily aches and pains of every day living. The ones who have learned that a simple task is no longer simple, but a long, drawn out process for which they always need assistance. The mundane is now elaborate, and every morning brings challenges beyond their control.
But then again, for us as their next generation, each day somehow offers new possibilities in caring and serving. We learn patience and understanding, often seeing ourselves in their struggles. We learn that love is more than receiving from these individuals who have given every breath so we could take our first.
It is not our duty, but our privilege to care for them. It is our chance to act on servanthood, and offer unconditional love to them for one last time. It is our chance to return the favor. Remembering this, lets offer one more day, one more hour, one more conversation or word, one more act of kindness. We just never know when that "one more" may be their final step to eternity.” - Darlene Scott, Heirborne Promise