Yesterday during a 75-minute wait with my dad for his quarterly doctor appointment, I had time to reflect. Chilling temperatures and snow aside, last week was a super week! Besides overseeing my parents’ needs, I had a welcome number of opportunities to interact with people and ideas: participating in a surprise baby shower for a Curves friend, dress shopping with a mother of the bride (MOB) and an MOG, enjoying a four-course meal at a restaurant school with my husband, conversing with three women caring for their ninety-something mothers and seeing live theater in Philadelphia (Amadeus and Lidless).
Today it has been two long short years since I left my job directing the Burlington Center Mall Ministry to focus on ministry to family. I had some idea of the big events to expect--the weddings of my daughter and the sister who had lived with my parents. Somehow, though, I expected life would resemble my days off from work. I hadn’t consciously recognized that my parents’ health would trend mostly downward nor that the journey of caring for two households could be lonely: interacting more with wash, dishes and bills and less with people! And that this people person would have lots of alone time at home. When I do plan times with friends, it seems they are often cancelled by a suddenly surfacing need.
When life gets frustrating, something has to change—possibly my perspective. I am learning to celebrate the small things: when my mom is able to use her walker to get from her lift chair to the bathroom, when dad has enough zip that he doesn’t need to take a nap or when we have a week where caregivers, activities and the furnace all are actually working according to plan.
As we were leaving the appointment, my dad asked the doctor about the current stage of mom’s dementia. He said, “Pretty advanced. She wouldn’t be alive if people weren’t helping her.” The statement hit me hard. I am making a difference as part of a team that helps both my parents continue living. Thank you, God!
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