My mother is almost 87. She has lived for the past 12 years out in California, remarrying late in life to a man named CR. Both have been married a few times before, and both have children from multiple marriages. But during the golden years, they serendipitously found each other, two fiercely independent and stubborn people, who love and delight in each other deeply. They seek to know and follow God as their number 1 priority, and as my mother put it, “we allow each other to be who we are without trying to change each other.”
In March of 2021, my sisters and I visited them as a social visit and as a check-up on their mental/physical health. It was obvious to us (and to a local doctor) that my mother is in the early stages of dementia. After that visit, we began to brainstorm and contemplate what our role would be in their lives and how do we care for them when they live on the opposite coast? As the months wore on, we came to see that their best decision would be to move here to receive care and support from us, but getting these Independents to see and accept that would require deep prayer.
To make a long story short, God moved mountains. Mom and CR sold their home and donated their belongings in mid-November, boarded a plane with one of my sisters, and made the journey to their new home here in South Carolina. My mother had been caring for CR’s ailing physical health for sometime, and she admitted how deeply exhausted she was. She knew that more care and assistance was needed, but also seemed to daily forget that fact as she struggles with her own memory loss. Firmly against assisted living, they consented to an independent retirement living situation near to us. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but better than alternatives.
This was right before Thanksgiving and all the busyness of the holidays. We were new to living in proximity to them, trying to discern relational norms, build trust, and figure out what the health issues with CR actually were. We were handed a bunch of puzzle pieces (incomplete medical records and insufficient memory from either of them as to what their challenges actually are) and needed to make sense of them quickly. This has not been easy because of the continued low-key obstinance, kindly refusals for help, like a young one who demands that “I can do it myself!” Discussions over wills, power of attorney, incontinence issues, cancerous growths, confusion, medications, heart issues, and caregivers were daily and comprehensive. We had gotten on an end-of-life-care rollercoaster, and weren’t sure the next right steps on any given day.
Nothing has driven me to prayer like this situation has. Utter dependence for wisdom, knowledge, resources. Visiting local support organizations, googling, reading, asking questions, phone calls. Lord, please guide us. It’s extremely humbling to be invited into the last stage of someone’s earthly life, and our hearts have been to serve as thoughtfully and thoroughly as possible. Never have I felt so completely inadequate and in visceral need of God’s precious hand to move situations, lift us from discouragement, and strengthen our spirits for the tasks at hand.
In January, we received the suggestion that CR would qualify for hospice. How did this happen so quickly? We still didn’t completely understand and comprehend the totality of his health issues. Many puzzle pieces didn’t seem to fit together for a full picture of his needs. But what we did know was that he was declining in mental and physical health, and very quickly. My sisters took him to many doctor’s visits, got a long-time cancerous growth removed from his ear, and on and on. By February, we knew his time with us was growing short, and the goal became safety and comfort. None of this was easy with a mother who wanted to continue to be his primary caregiver in the midst of her own mental inadequacy and challenges. Every day was Groundhog Day when it came to conversations, explanations, and boundaries.
Several of us, including my mother, began praying that he would pass into the arms of Jesus quickly and peacefully. She didn’t want him to suffer any more, and it broke her heart to watch his frailty, loss of strength, and inability to emotionally connect. I visit them on Wednesdays, and decided that at every visit, I would play him worship music in his ear through Spotify. I did this several times, and he absolutely loved it. The last time I visited him, I had it turned up loud (he was hard of hearing), and he grinned with pleasure. After about 45 minutes, I asked him if he enjoyed it, and he said, “that filled me up!” and then with his feeble, scratchy voice shouted, “GOD IS GOOD!” He, mom, and I were all teared up, they kissed, and he told me how deeply grateful he was for family.
On February 23, he peacefully and quietly passed away. He was lying in his hospital bed in their apartment. One minute he was breathing, and the next, he wasn’t. There was no struggle or scary-feeling ending. I can’t thank the Lord enough for that gift for my mom and for all of us who care for him. And that God brought them here in the perfect timing, at the final hour, to be loved and cared for with dignity, respect, and kindness. It is truly a gracious miracle.
This next leg of the journey will be our caring and leading our mom into her next phase of widowhood, health, and social connection. The repetition of conversation and soothing her financial anxieties are daily challenges for us. We want to invite her into whatever a thriving life can look like for one with her declining faculties. Our individual relationships with her have never been easy. There have been decades of misunderstandings, disagreements, and personality clashes. But here, in these final years, I am seeing glimpses of restoration. The locusts have feasted on our bonds for way too long, and God is entering in with healing, empathy, and deep compassion. He is guiding us into being gentle and lowly.
I share all of this because it has helped me to read other women’s stories of caregiving for aging parents, walking the road of dementia, and how to live well when needs press in from all sides. I find it particularly challenging to still have four children under my roof, three of which I homeschool, and to meet their needs well along with contemplating and helping make decisions for the needs of elders. I also provide hospitality on a regular basis and seek to serve younger mothers and my neighborhood in a variety of ways. I balance many different modes of giving while also seeking quiet, solitude, and restoration. My motto this year has been “fill + flow”. I seek to continually be filled up by the Lord and engaging in spiritual/emotional/physical practices of health while also flowing out to those around me in healthy, life-giving ways.
Caregivers are my new heroes. I had no idea there were so many people out there quietly and faithfully caring for those who are in a stage of dependence. Certainly, mothers of many littles have always been the ones I think of as intensive caregivers. But now I am seeing a whole new subset of society, men and women alike, who lay down their lives for their aged loved ones. They are good and faithful servants, and I see the humility of Jesus in them. They model to me how to love and live well in deeply trying circumstances. My mother has been modeling how to love well despite limitation, and CR has taught me how to die well with grace and gratitude.
What a journey this life is.
Thank you for reading and caring,
Aimee
Aimee, isn't it a blessed, glorious relief when a loved one passed gently to heaven? Caregiving (for my father who lived to 95, his second wife who he married at 91 (!) and now my husband has many similarities to raising children. The dying to self and giving of thoughtful care, taking joy in their smiles and comfort feel so much the same. But the knowledge that, unlike children, the older and ill in our care are not growing and gaining, but slipping and declining. It has been humbling to observe my father's good cheer to the end and Ken's constant happiness in his simple world. Thank you for sharing your experience.
Thank you Aimee for writing and sharing your experience. This is very helpful to me.