My new life

Life changes on a dime. As a result it's taken me 5 days to write this blog. It's been updated and edited daily. So here's my story...

Cut to the chase right out of the gate. One week ago yesterday my parents lives, as well as my life and family's lives changed. I don't want to sound morbid, or negative but I believe we've come to the official "beginning of the end" for both my parents. Those of you who have lost a parent or are caring for a parent will understand what I mean by those words. I knew my parents were aging, but you always see them as "mom and dad" not as "80" & "83". They live in their own home, dad still drives. Overall, they're doing okay. But an unexpected ER visit a week ago just slapped me upside the head. Boom. Life changed.

The day before Thanksgiving my father was admitted into the hospital. I brought him to there to have some tests done. Upon set up for a cardiogram the nurse noticed my dad's left ankle was swollen. She asked how long it had been that way and my father replied "About a month". A doppler test determined he had a massive blood clot canvasing his entire leg. A blood clot? That's not what I brought him in here for. Next thing you know he's being put on mandatory bed rest for 5 days and is going into surgery to have a filter inserted that should protect him from any clots that break off. Holy cow. This came out of no where! Now, a week later, he's resting comfortably, or however comfortably you can be in a reahab center, but will return home in about a week. It's the "what will life be like when he gets home" part that's the mystery being uncovered as we speak.

My mom suffers from vascular dementia. She's got other ailments probably pretty common in most seniors. I've spent alot of time with her this past week. My living room is now a bedroom. I'm living her "typical day" trying to figure out how it all works, and how, exactly does her brain function? I've had a real glimpse to the world my dad lives in with her as well. All I can say is "pheewwww" - it's exhausting and takes an extreme amount of patience (a virtue my dad has always been blessed with) As mom now has a bed in my living room, while dad is at rehab, I'm learning that I hopefully have inherited my father's same virtue (cause I'm gonna need it - lol) You do what has to be done. It's extremely trying when it takes someone 2-3 hours just to stand up from the side of a bed. And yes, in my world I could accomplish 3-4 tasks in sixty minutes. In mom's world that's the time it takes to swallow 5 pills. I'm learning how to make it all work. Make sure she's taken care of with love and dignity. It's hard work. It's heartbreaking.

It's important for our parents to be happy and healthy for their remaining time - which could be months or years. In that time you're now juggling your own day to day family life, your business...your life while managing another entire household and two additional lives. What can you do but live day to day ready to roll with the punches. All the upcoming trials and tribulations that are in store for us are the mere pavement on the path we're on. Almost as if everything we'll be going through prepares us to be a little more ready to accept the final frontier when it happens. Does that make sense? I see a tremendous amount of decisions that will have to be made. You can try to formulate somewhat of a plan, but ultimately only the Big Guy upstairs knows what's in store. Life's a mystery. I guess that makes us all Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys.

My daughters (who have been tremendous with this whole thing so far) will experience these coming months, or perhaps years of caring for my parents. And more importantly they will experience family in its purest state. I remember helping to care for both of my grandmothers. One of them had a bed in our living room (hmm, sound familiar)until it was her time to go to a nursing home. We had a cow bell that my uncle had brought back from Germany sitting next to Nana's bed. If she needed us she'd ring the bell. There were many nights I remember waking up to that bell. Whenever I look at that bell it reminds me of her.

My other grandmother was very independent. She stilled mowed her own lawn when she was 92. 92! I'm 44 and could never push mow my yard (I'm more of a rider mower with cup holder kind of gal). I digressed, anyways, Grandma was never sick a day in her life. She lived a long life and passed on two weeks before Christmas at the age of 95. Gone just 6 months after being diagnosed with cancer. I remember being by her side. My parents went to California for 2 weeks to visit my sister. I spent every day after work with Grandma. At first we were able to talk, or she'd like us to pray the rosary together. By the time my parents returned she had slipped dramatically. Instead of Gram holding her rosaries it was me and my dad praying it for her. I remember trying to say the prayers out loud but the enormous lump in my throat sometimes prevented the words from leaving my mouth as I held back my tears. My dad stood strong and somehow got all the words to all the prayers out because he knew my grandmother found comfort in hearing them. That's the first time I personally SAW faith. I witnessed it from the very people who taught me to have faith. Days went by and things got worse. I remember the grumbling of her stomach as the morphine drip kept her from pain, but I knew she knew I was by her side, even though she couldn't open her eyes or speak to me. I just held her hand and felt comfort in that. It's been almost 20 years and I remember it all like it was yesterday. I was there to help my parents as they helped their parents and I will be here again for them now.

So I thank you for letting me share my thoughts and memories. We move forward. We take one day at a time. It's all good. It's all life.