Cherish this moment.
That phrase takes on additional meaning this holiday season as my mom slowly loses her battle against advanced cancer. Thankfully, she is in little to no physical pain. The emotional pain is felt by those who lovingly help her with the activities of daily living – those small, unconscious things that need to be done for survival.
Not just going to the bathroom, but guiding her walker (we need racing stripes on that thing). Making sure there are no wardrobe malfunctions.
Not just eating, but making sure the spaghetti is cut up in small enough pieces to be easily transferred from plate to mouth.
Not just hand-washing, but making sure all the soapsuds are rinsed off.
Being there with a tissue when her nose starts to run. Lifting her legs when she wants to stretch out on the couch. Joining in the middle of a conversation she’s having in her head because there’s no point trying to understand what is coming out of an increasing scrambled brain. Giving her whatever she wants to eat, regardless of nutritional value as her appetite wanes. Cajoling her to drink water to keep her kidneys functioning.
My sister Colleen and brothers Mark and Steve have been helping Mom during the last five months. Now it’s my turn to be the mom, if only for a week, to help her and be with her before she passes.
Cherishing this moment
I’m a big believer in expressing gratitude aloud. I have also learned that talking about the things I’m grateful for engages my brain and my mouth, but not my heart. Cherishing this moment opens all the senses and turns gratitude into a visceral experience.
Mom’s doctors told her about a month ago that the chemo was not working and they were ending treatment.
“Why?” she demanded. She holds onto the hope that there is something out there that will cure her cancer. Her spirit is strong and stubborn and indomitable. Her cancer-ridden, 83-year-old body, however, is on a different path – an inevitable one that leads to death.
As Mom continues her final journey, I am reminded of other, happier trips she has undertaken. Mom has always been a traveler. As recently as January 2015, she flew down to Florida and we spent a month together. While we didn’t get out and about as much as we have on her previous visits, she was determined to make the 100-mile round trip to Keys Fisheries in Marathon for her all-time favorite sandwich, a lobster Reuben.
We have laughed about some of our previous forays – like the time we drove to Key West and I accidentally turned on her seat warmer. Eventually she mentioned that her butt was getting hot and I told her with a straight face that it was a special feature to allowed people to pee their pants, which the warmer automatically dried.
And one day the military jets were doing touch-and-go’s at the Naval Air Station at Boca Chica. Mom was impressed – but not surprised – when I told her that I had arranged that show strictly for her pleasure.
I had to tell her I was joking. Because, you see, my mom believed I could do anything. Still does, to this day. She’s convinced that my business will be a huge success and she refuses to listen to any whiny excuses, or how hard it is or how long I work or anything else. She knows I will be successful. And that is that. Period.
An inveterate home-improvement maven, she helped me paint my kitchen – the only room with a new color scheme. A flower lover, she helped me fill planters of impatiens around the house.
I will miss her when she goes.
But until then…I am cherishing this moment.
P.S. In addition to my siblings’ efforts, I cannot say enough about the support we are getting from hospice. We could not retain our sanity with out them. And of course the services they provide Mom are incredible, including a delivery of pain meds the other day.
Update: Mom passed away early today, Dec. 29, 2015.