It's a hard thing to watch a parent in decline.
Physical failing, cognitive decline, disturbed sleep patterns, forgetfulness, bad decisions.
Two years ago we took my mother in. She had been living on the family homestead, out from town in the Ozarks. Several months prior the well pump gave out. That was not so surprising, it had lasted forty years. I went ahead and replaced it. The first week of February, 2018, I was driving to a work site in Texas and thinking to myself the next thing to go would be the furnace. The next day, my sister calls me. "Mom doesn't have any heat." One of my sisters went and got her. A couple weeks later we had the family intervention and she (and her Australian Shepherd) came to live with me and soon to be wife.
Mom was pretty angry for a time, though this improved as we moved in more and more of her stuff. I managed to get her to the eye doctor as she couldn’t see to read or the television. Her glasses were trashed and she had severe cataracts. Naturally cataract surgery was refused. “I don’t want to go borrowing trouble.” Fortunately the eye doc told her she could no longer drive. It took a year to get her to agree to getting that fixed.
A number of years prior to coming to stay with us, she had briefly been taking medicines to slow the progression of arthritis. She was non-compliant with the medication and follow-up visits. At that time I am not certain whether stubbornness or forgetfulness was the primary factor in this. We suggested on several occasions, when she was in pain, that she could see a doctor much easier here than back home.
Typically she’d reply with some irritation“I had a doctor tell me the best thing you can take is aspirin!”
“When was that Mom? 1960?”
“Well...yes!”
Reason is not always effective in dealing with a declining parent. We did get her to start taking some arthritis medication, but it took a middle of the night fall and ER trip for stitches to make it happen. The good thing about the fall, is that she did see a doctor. In the year’s time she stayed with us she’d gained 20 pounds. Apparently she’d been forgetting to eat.
After
our father died fifteen years ago, Mom went back to work for a short
time. Eventually she retired completely and spent time on the
homestead. She was well known for taking the dogs for long country
walks. Almost daily, as long as it was not raining or icing. Walking
became somewhat incorporated into our days here, though somewhat
limited as both I and my wife work. Fortunately my hours are rather
flexible. Last March, with the spread of COVID-19, both our employers
sent us home to work. This has been a very good thing for us. It has
allowed the walks to continue more regularly. However, over the last
year the distances involved have become increasingly short.
Yesterday, we went from the trail head to the waterfalls and were
going to walk back to the truck. Mom couldn’t make it back, with
only a quarter mile left. The pain was just too much. I had to have
her sit down and run for the truck, drive around and pick her up (we
live in a small city near a military installation, it’s pretty
safe). After a couple hours sitting at home, she appeared mostly recovered.
The long walks appear to be a thing of the past for Mom. I know that will be a hard thing. As we age, our world shrinks. We simply do not stray far from home. Mom had stopped driving even as far as the nearest WalMart (like 20 minutes away) because it was "too far." It occurred to me that her world had just become that much smaller.
