My Mary Jo has made me very aware—again—of a word. No, two words. One suggested a darkness, the other, a longing. I heard them in her words and underscored in her tone. Dale, be careful! Youll get back soon, wont you? I must be careful. She loves me. But there was more: There was urgency. Why? What if she tried to get to the bedside commode, or to the wheel chair, and fell again? Would she be able get up (she couldnt the last two times). Could she crawl to the phone? Would she remember that you now have to dial 270, the area code, before calling wonderwomanneighborBonnie? Would she remember Bonnies number? Would she remember where its written down. If something happened to me and the police came to the door to tell her, she wouldnt be able to get to the door to let them in. Would she remember that in my billfold are instructions for them,rather than coming to the house, to see Bonnie, who has a key--and if Bonnies not home, to call Lisa, in Wisconsin, for instructions. She knows where a key is hidden. So Ill be careful. And hurry. What are the two words Mary Jo has intensified my awareness of? The darkness: FEAR. The longing: SECURITY. As we age, or otherwise find our capabilities slipping, our sense of security diminishes and our fears tend to increase. Love insists that we try to minimize our loved ones fears by increasing their securities—and we must tell them what weve done to make them secure. Honey, the refrigerator and freezer doors are closed. The coffee maker is turned off. Ive made sure the doors are locked. Ill watch and be sure the garage door goes down and stays down. I have gas in the car. Im leaving early enough that I wont have to rush. But I wont dilly-dally and will be back as quickly as I can. We try. But cant cover all the bases. I cant hire someone to stay with her every time I need to go to the store, to the pharmacist, to the bank—or for my own sanity—to church, to Toastmasters, to speak for a nearby group, etc. But if I must be gone long, I sometimes can get our friend Carol, or other angel in disguise, to come. And sometimes I wait until a therapist is coming and schedule to dash to the store so it overlaps with their visit. The best thing I can do is to try to help Mary gain strength so shes more and more capable on her on: To be able to stand, to walk with a walker, to maneuver with the wheel chair, to use the phone, to know where the numbers are, to be able to reach for food in the refrigerator, etc. Her pain has subsided and she is now on no painkillers. But shes been so very weak and has simply wanted to die and be gone from all of it. Of course that is depression showing itself. So we work on reassuring her that better times are ahead—and soon, if she exercises and eats more. Unfortunately, due to a records mess-up the home therapy office of Medical Center Hospital, both PT and OT were delayed several days. But few calls insisting that This is totally unacceptable has gotten them in gear and shes had both here in the last couple of days. Now we should start seeing results. Especially if I can nudge, urge, and cajole her into staying up more, exercising more, and eating more. Right now, I need to get some Southern Cornbread cooking (you always spell Southern Cornbread with a capital S and C, and preferably hum, whistle, or sing Dixie as you stir the batter). While it cooks Ill dash down to the Kroger, 4-minutes away, pick up some yogurt, milk, buttermilk, etc. to tide us over the weekend. But before I go, Ill get Mary Jo into her big chair in the living room with the TV on an episode of The Waltons, The Antique Road Show, or an old b/w from the 30s or 40s. And… Ill be careful, wont dilly-dally, and will hurry back—the good Lord willing! --Dale PS Blessings on you if youre caring for someone whose life is darkened by fear and filled with longing for security—or if yours is.
Posted on: Fri, 10 Oct 2014 23:11:34 +0000
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