From the Heart
It was a year ago this month when I had to have the discussion with my mother about moving her to an assisted living residence.
It was one of the hardest talks that I have ever had with my mother.
After several falls and several other health issues she agreed to move.
Two weeks after we moved her she called me and said, “Okay, I’m ready to move back home.”
Silence.
I felt my heart crack. “Mom, you are in your new home.”
She was not happy with me and told me so.
A year later she has many new friends and is happy. It’s not been an easy journey.
Is assisted living perfect? No.
BUT…
I know she is safe. I know she is watched over. I know she has made friends at Five Star Residences, who truly care about her. She is enjoying this last chapter of her story.
My brain knows all of that; however, I have to remind my heart over and over.
Perhaps this past week you watched the segment on WTHR with Scott Swan and my best friend, Patrice, and I about the journey of a caregiver for elderly parents.
It is not for the fainthearted. As the journey progresses, your heart breaks a little more.
My mother has had the discussion with my daughter, Emily, about her funeral and what she wants done. I could not be a part of it. I just couldn’t.
My mother did tell me this week that she knows that God has a time for her to go to her heavenly home and that she is ready.
Knowing that rests easily on my mind but my heart still wrestles with that part of her story.
I’m struggling to put my fingers on the keyboard and wipe tears at the same time.
I love my mom. Our hearts have been connected since September 7, 1955, the day I was delivered to their home, after their decision to adopt me.
Now, I am making the decisions. Many are difficult. I am her Power of Attorney.
I think with my heart, a heart that cracks a little more as time goes on and with more and more difficult decisions.
As my friend Patrice said in the interview, “We have the privilege of caring for our mothers, a privilege denied by many.”
Each night I pray for my mother to have a good night’s sleep. Each morning I pray for her to have strength in her legs.
Throughout the day I pray for my heart to have wisdom to make the right decisions. I can’t make her better but I can make her life easier.
The discussions become more difficult. The decisions become more difficult. Both are necessary.
There are restless nights. There are moments of guilt. There are second guesses. There are days of wrestling with decisions.
But, at the end of the day, I rest assured that there is love. That is a discussion that Mom and I have often. Everything I do is because I love my mother. I tell her that at the end of our phone calls and as I leave her apartment. She tells me she loves me.
With that thought, we both sleep well.
“I love you, Mom.”