support my parents with love, respect, patience, and humor

My dad was thrilled that I’m about ready to buy a car and is in full research mode. That man loves research and bargains. I stayed over there so long I got barely anything done the rest of the day, but it was worth it to have a good long chat with them. They liked the video I shot for them of my office, the church, chapel and grounds and the first video, with my sister and I talking in the car and being our goofy selves. My mom’s back is still hurting, but not horribly. She was talking about their current car lasting until she’s done driving and seemed to hint that would be ten years from now. I told her that no 86 year old has good enough reflexes to be driving. She snorted at me. God grant me strength when it comes to that woman. My dad is such a pussycat and she’s going to be more of a mad tiger.

She hasn’t been cooking as much in the last few years because she gets tired. My mom cooks everything from scratch. But now that my dad’s appetite is so bad, she cooks because he eats more of home food than takeout. They both, at separate times, said he was ready to die. I hesitate to say ‘eager,’ but he’s definitely ready. My mom says he isn’t yet able to let go of the life side of the equation, as much as he’s tired and spiritually ready for the death side.

Living is a hard habit to break.

this weekend. I had planned to go through some boxes, but when I sat down, I was so sleepy I couldn’t get back up!

My dad made my mom tell me that she’s pretty sure she has another compression fracture in her back. She was unable to sit for two days and still has to use a big pillow and a step beneath her feet. She refuses to see the doctor because she thinks her vertebrae are in such fragile shape that there isn’t anything that can be done. I suggested that she get it checked out to make sure there isn’t any danger to the nerves and she said she had horrible pain down her sides the first few days but was better now. She basically refused to see a doc at all. I did some very gentle exploration of her spine and one of her lower thoracic vertebra is definitely swollen and seems a little displaced to one side.

I remained patient, although I let her know I wish she would see someone. I talked to her about the importance of keeping her torso balanced and stable as she heals, so she doesn’t develop more problems due to guarding or compensating. I also told my sister, b-i-l and godmother about it, so we can all drop by this week and make sure she isn’t lifting or moving things. The woman was proud of her restraint in not moving furniture to dust or sweep and told me how it’s getting harder to kill the black widow spiders as she gets older and slower!

I feel like we have so many battles ahead of us with my mom that fighting this one would be a waste of energy. My dad seems the same. He sleeps so much these days and is less and less interested in food. Both of them were so happy to see me. At one point my mom took my hand, kissed it several times and said, “I love you, sweetheart.”

They break my heart in all kinds of good ways.

We went over on Saturday and had cake and coffee. My dad is having a lot of trouble standing up. It takes him two or three tries and he’s very wobbly. He insisted on trimming the flower stems with a huge knife. After he nicked himself, I told him I would have a heart attack if he didn’t let me do the rest. His arthritis is so bad that he can’t close his hands properly, so it’s difficult to hold things. My sister asked him to cut the cake and I told her straight out, “The man is shaky and on coumadin. You’re cutting the cake.” I think she doesn’t want to see the changes in him.

My mother recently changed out the vent on the dryer, lying on her back on the garage floor to do so. The woman will not ask for help, EVER. She told me that it’s getting harder to find stuff that my dad will eat, because his appetite is so poor. They were both thrilled with the Costco baked chicken, though. $5 and they got nine servings out of it. My mom doesn’t do anything except look after my dad and he worries while she’s out shopping or running errands. I wish she would let us help so she could go to daily mass or to the bookstore.

is visiting us from England, so I took him to visit with my parents. We all had a lovely time. I’m so glad my dad and he got to talk again. He said my dad looked good and my mother said, “Poor man. Everyone says he looks great and he feels like hell!” My dad agreed with her. I don’t know what to make of that, frankly. He does look good. The morphine has made such a difference that I forget he sleeps most of the day, doesn’t eat much and can barely walk.

I sometimes feel like I’m too aware of his death, yet one of his oncologists flat out told him last month, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. You’re supposed to be dead. It’s outside all our experience!” So I’m not exaggerating, but if he’s outlasted expectations this long, all bets are off as to when he’ll begin his final descent (sounds like a plane).

Ah, well. Love ‘em while I’ve got ‘em and not sweat it until I must.

this last weekend, spent a few hours with them. My dad is cold these days, so he’s always wearing several layers. I hadn’t realized how thin he’d gotten, but I saw his arm and was kind of shocked. He looked at me and said, “Yeah. I just don’t eat much these days.” My mom teared up a little and said, “Honey, you can’t imagine how thin his arms and legs are now.”

Still, the morphine is controlling his pain. The steroids destroyed his leg muscles, so he has a lot of trouble walking and standing. They’ve made some changes to the house to make it easier for him. He was in good spirits, overall, and my mom doesn’t look too tired. They had some trouble with a blind outside and she was saying that she had to do it alone. I told her that just wasn’t true, that she has an army to do things for her, then listed everyone she could have called. She pursed her mouth and crossed her arms. If anything, she’s getting more self-reliant and stubborn the older she gets. Oy. She definitely tries my patience.

I went over last night for my dad’s 83rd birthday. It was my folks, my sister, her husband and me. My dad is so much brighter and more energetic now that he’s on morphine. I kidded him about how we’d gotten a great deal on a tombstone and now are going to have to pay to have part of the 8 in 2008 filled in to make it read 2009. He thought that was hilarious. I donated money to Save the Redwoods to have a redwood seedling planted on protected land in honor of him and my mother. (I didn’t want him growing out there all alone and they’ll be separated soon enough.) He and my mom were happy about that. He loved the cake and we all had a good time.

On a side note, man, my family talks a lot and loud! I sat back and listened, mostly. It takes a lot of energy to find an opening and dart into our rapid fire conversations and I was in a quiet place.

and visited on Friday. My dad is doing so well on the morphine! He sleeps a lot, but is pain free and clearer-minded than he’s been in a long time. My mom seemed better rested, too. Thank goodness for good drugs.

It’s the entire reason I now live in this state, for goodness sake! Definitely going over there this Saturday. My parents are thrilled to see me more than once a year, but I know I can do better about visiting them. I’ve got commitments on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays and I have to fit my Mr. Yes time into weekends. I even miss Little Yes if I don’t see him every other weekend. For someone who would like to have more contact with her friends, I don’t seem to have a lot of free time.

But every moment I don’t spend with my folks is one I’ll regret after they’re gone.

my father has gone on morphine. Pain serves no purpose at this point. We know that his body is failing and the goal is life quality, not longevity or healing. He’s surprised to be alive in 2009 and perhaps wishes he was not, but he continues on with the same sweetness and humor I’ve known all my life. My mother – words fail. Her heart’s second beat is slowing. I ache for her and can offer no comfort.

It was bittersweet. My dad did pretty well, until the end of the day, when he was obviously in pain and having trouble supporting himself. Both my parents looked pale and a little grey to me. My father’s illness is wearing them down.

Still, they had a good day. My sister did almost all the cooking and we laughed a LOT. We had my birthday in the evening. It was a good day. I’ve got a bit of the blues today, so it’s hard to keep my picture of the day clean.