Disappering Into the Mist

Just about a year ago I posted some early morning thoughts on mortality. I was sitting on the deck with my aging mother, noting her increasing fragility and musing on the brevity of life. For some reason I felt the need to read that post last night.

Life has not been good for my mother lately. She already had dementia five years ago when she came to live with us, but things were manageable. Though homesick for her native state of Texas, she mostly enjoyed life. Last year's post found us waiting for the first visit from someone "outside"--a home-care aide. After a while mom improved and that stopped. Then a bit later, Laurie, a woman from our church, began coming on a fairly regular basis. Mom and Laurie had an uneasy truce, most of the time, and Laurie did a good job of caring for her even while my mom insisted she did not need help.

Then on April 28th this year, my birthday, mom had a stroke. She's had many smaller ones. This was more significant. She spent a week in the hospital, and has been at the nursing home ever since. She is not improving much. She is sad, angry, confused, disoriented and frustrated. Yesterday she was almost asleep during most of church and I wondered if it was time for churchgoing to cease. If so, that will be very difficult. As we pulled up to the curb in front of the nursing home, she looked at me angrily and asked, "What is this place? Why am I here? Why aren't you taking me to the house?"

Inside, she cried, then she fumed. She said, "I need my family. No one here helps me do anything anyway. " (Not so.) "You just don't care about me." When I said she could no longer walk unaided, and could not be alone, she responded with more anger. I left about that time. Poor woman.

I'm not being altogether rational about this. Yesterday I found myself thinking, "Perhaps she is right. Perhaps we could work something out, or perhaps I should stay home and care for her and work from home, or perhaps....." I know it is not going to happen, but I still feel guilty and sad and a little afraid that I am doing the wrong thing. We had quite a strange relationship, mom and I, and old ghosts can still haunt me sometimes.

Someone commented once about this. I apologize for not remembering who it was. But he or she was talking about their grandfather who had Alzheimer's and how it was like Grandfather was in a boat that was drifting farther and farther from the shore where they stood, disappearing slowly but inexorably into the mist. That is such a lovely, sad, but apt description. I can't stop the boat, I can't clear the mist, I can only stand on the shore and feel lonely and reach out with love but helplessness and grief. It is the same with my sister. She is lost in the mist, and I can't find her. I want to share this grief with her, because she would understand more than anyone. I miss her so much.

Meanwhile, this verse from my older blog post was comforting.

2 Corinthians 4:15-17 All of these things are for your benefit. And as God's grace brings more and more people to Christ, there will be great thanksgiving, and God will receive more and more glory. That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are quite small and won't last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever!

"Immeasurably great glory..." Oh Lord God, may it be so!