Some interesting pictures and thoughts....

An interesting article found in the Guardian:

Pictures of the old

Glad I Was Not There

So, the matriarch's sister-in-law came for a visit-not lunch, a sit-down, have a cup of tea, chat for the afternoon kind of visit. The matriarch was having none of it; they said they were going to take her out for lunch and she intended to go for lunch. Call it the tyranny of the old...and the selfish.

Fortunately, my husband, my children and I were not invited. Sometimes the silence in a house completely yours is just rejuvenating.

And, they got lost. I believe I have mentioned before that the sister-in-law is in her eighties, has had cancer recently and really, in my opinion though my husband from childhood recollection disagrees, has the patience of a saint. My husband drew a map of how to get to the fish'n'chip restaurant; his Uncle promptly misplaced it. The matriarch said not to worry, she knew how to get there. Yes, yes, I know we should have just gone along and had lunch with them and done the driving. Life sometimes conspires to make one do what has to be done. But, then, there are these moments when glances meet and a husband and wife silently agree: over our dead bodies, are we leaving this house.

They were gone for over three hours with the matriarch navigating their travel throughout the city of Barrie. She is blind, you know; you'd have thought the sister-in-law and husband would have given up or faked the place being closed...any excuse. But, God love them, they really did try. Of course, they failed miserably. And, the matriarch got mad at them and they left quite quickly after lunch at a nearby family restaurant.

It wasn't quite the same, you know. The matriarch told me. I knew where I was going. They just didn't listen.

I nod my head at her, trying very hard not to laugh. People often think if they were in charge, life would be so much easier. They could handle the matriarch better. I think not. She is just very old, I don't even know if she qualifies as "fragile elderly." The woman won't admit to being blind. She takes very mild dementia pills. She knows who the Prime Minister is, the date and how much money she has in her wallet. She refuses to leave the house for respite care. She is an individual and no one can take that role away from her no matter how difficult she may choose to make life.

The sister-in-law didn't phone when she got home. My husband figures the matriarch's birthday will be the last we will see of his Aunt. So much for respite opportunities.

You Must Understand She's Old

It begins with a glass of water. Everyday, after breakfast, I bring my mother-in-law a glass of water up to her room. There are ice cubes, the water is cold and she likes to drink it as she eats her potato chips and Werther's for her mid-morning snack. Usually, in the afternoon, the matriarch sleeps; no need for a glass of water and, if I am not home, she has her own bathroom with a sink and she can easily re-fill the glass if necessary. She almost never drinks water in the afternoon; I say almost never because of what happened yesterday and how such an act can drive a person (ie me) crazy.

After lunch, the matriarch took her tea to her room, had more chips, still had the glass from the morning if she needed more water and seemed quite settled. I told her I was taking the children skiing and would be back in a few hours. We live quite close to the ski hills; we go skiing regularly; this was not an unusual event. When I returned home, not even an hour later because it was so cold, the matriarch told me I had left her without any water.

"What happened to your glass and tea cup?"

"I brought them downstairs while you were gone."

"Why would you bring your dishes downstairs and not get yourself a glass of water?"

Implicit in the matriarch's behaviour was the expectation that I would be there to get her what she wanted when she wanted it....even if only a glass of water. I know the woman is 99 but she did not reach that age not knowing how to survive. She also did not reach that age being stupid. It is such a silly act. And, obviously, an act trying to focus attention on herself. It is an act that is a sample of the frustration of living with a senior illustrates. How do we become this way? Why does it happen?

I don't like sympathizing with abusive children of seniors. I hated reading in this morning's New York Times about how people take financial advantage of the elderly. Of course, I am against all that. But I also wonder how one is expected to deal with the habits of the elderly who have become quite selfish. I don't know how to prevent it within myself--God knows if I become like my mother-in-law, I want my children to put me out of their misery. It is just I know seniors who aren't this selfish and I know seniors who are on their way to becoming like this...Is it a world view? What determines the ability of someone to still be unselfish and compassionate as they age?

Demographics determine the changing priorities of society. So, I understand as the baby boom ages, there will be a change in the way seniority is experienced. But, I worry, as the most selfish generation in mankind's history ages, if things will get better or drastically worse. Children institutionalized in daycare centres are hardly going to think twice about institutionalizing their parents and the baby boomers were the first generation to really utilize daycare centres. I mean they were the parents of the first generation of "latch-key" children; children who were expected to entertain themselves in front of a blasting television. I cannot but worry what those children will do to their parents in old age. But I digress...

The matriarch will get her glass of water this morning and I will keep my mouth shut. If there is one thing I am learning it is I have the ability to overcome this and demonstrate to my children there are important lessons to be learned with a single glass of water. I might have to reach a bit to find that level of stoic but caring and unselfish silence, but damnit, I will find it.

Elder Abuse

Probably not a sympathetic post....

In Toronto, there is a horrific case of elder abuse:

http://www.thestar.com/news/crime/article/946088--woman-housed-in-garage-had-box-of-diapers-bucket-of-water?bn=1

Now, the senior citizen involved was suffering from dementia and, while this does not in any way excuse the family, it highlights how frustrating it can be to live with someone who is no longer themselves. Their personhood, in a sense, has been lost. My mother-in-law is perfectly fine but she drives me crazy because she is not the person "I" want her to be and that is not fair to her. I don't know when needing help deteriorates into a complete loss of independence but I can say it is very hard to live within the ambiguous state of helping verses serving. The matriarch sleeps in the master bedroom, we use her dishes, and life, whether we like it or not, in some ways, is orchestrated around her routine. And, this sort of life keeps her alive; it is hard and I don't know if many are willing to live it. It would be so much easier if there was help; my husband is an only child; there is no one else to share the responsibility. And, I think that idea is key. Family is a shared responsibility.

It sounds very conservative, in the traditional family values perspective, to say family membership is a responsibility, but it is. I think we have gotten so use to putting our children in daycares and our seniors in old age facilities we forget those institutions are not there to replace family but only to help with the raising and caregiving of the old and young. A society is judged by how they treat the very old and very young. I think, in fact I deeply believe, we as a society neglect both generations. If there is one thing immigration has done to family, it has allowed people to think distance denies responsibility to blood; in fact, I think it betrays it.

The senior in the article has a second child; where was the help to the family? I know it is not mentioned but these situations arise when one family member, or their family, is left alone to struggle with a senior, with or without dementia, and the burden is very hard. It is no excuse but, while that one adult child did this to the mother, the other child did nothing--including not phone authorities about conditions. That must be acknowledged, too. The state offers all kinds of help to the infirm and fragile elderly. So, there is no excuse for this type of situation to arise. Anyhow, it is a tragic situation.

I must go. We're taking the matriarch to Swiss Chalet, today. The weather has been so windy she hasn't been able to go out much. Now, spring is arrived (almost), I hope she will return to sitting out on the front porch a bit. Let the world know she is still alive in all senses of the word.

Sugar on a Wednesday

My husband has been on holidays this past week and we seem to be renegotiating how things are dealt with in respect to his mother. As old as a parent gets, I guess, they are still a parent and one is still a child--despite the actual ages involved. This brings us, of course, to the topic of sugar.

It's so funny, one thinks, to read me constantly complain about how my mother-in-law is eating me out of house and home; for heaven's sake, she is almost 100, how much can she really eat? When it comes to normal, everyday sorts of things like bread and butter, the matriarch is probably healthier than the average 99 year old floating around; when it comes to sugar, the woman is incredible. She eats sugar on all fruit, desserts, puddings--you name it. This house goes through a lot of sugar. My husband tends to link the children's baking with this vast consumption. I know that is not so but I say nothing. I mean I am really silent on the issue. He thinks what he wants and I do what has to be done and the matriarch just plows through our pantry and everyone seems to get along....Until the day we run out of sugar.

It's a Wednesday. I bought a 2 pound of sugar bag last Friday and it is gone. It is gone in the very real sense of empty sugar bowls and vacuous containers and my husband getting his mother her fruit for the evening and wondering why there is no sugar. He's been home. He knows the children have made bread this week, not cookies or cakes or ice cream. He knows I have been having a fit over other uncontrollable concerns and not eating anything. He knows his mother has been the receptacle of all things sweet lately; he knows because when he is off, it is the one thing he must do--get her fruit and sugar. He brought a bowl of fruit up to her room and she sent it back down wondering where the sugar was. Ever seen a grown man in a panic?

At nine o'clock in the evening, he didn't feel like going out to the store. So he stood there wondering what to do...

I suggested icing sugar.

Now, my husband looked at me and made a face and reacted with words to the effect of "She couldn't possibly want that..."

Things have been a bit tense lately. It's not so much the matriarch is a burden but more my burden. My husband has expectations for how things should be for his mother, which is fine, but he doesn't seem willing to do his fair share to carry some of the load. And, I have told him as much. Yes, I know having to do lunch once a week with his mother at the same fish'n'chip place is a never-ending chore, but it is only one day a week. The other six days are my responsibility. And, I have told him I need help. Some of the matriarch's expectations have to give way to compromises; am I being unfair asking an elderly woman to expect less? Her care is fine but I would like to be able to get out more; I would like to be able to go to a bookstore and not have to leave her sitting in the car while I nip in for a few minutes. I should be able to go out to a store and not have to take her with me. I should be able to take the children to the movies and it not be a secret from grandma. The compromises are not unreasonable. A simple conversation should enable them; but, I think my husband is afraid of his mother.

Do we become so set in our ways as we age that we are incapable of compromise? Do I want to admit the matriarch is something of an oligarch is this house? I don't know how who we are, our actual identity, becomes entrenched in the person we become but I wonder about a seniority being, literally, a life of having needs fulfilled and doing nothing for others. It's a weird kind of selfishness, I think. It is as though one expects their old age to be payback for the unselfishness of youth; does that make sense? And, I think there are some natures incapable of debating this issue, of saying to a parent, "You are asking too much of my wife, my children." But, then, what do you do? Put a parent in a home knowing it will lead to a life without the simple strawberry snacks and probably death?

But, back to the sugar; my husband took the advice, put icing sugar on his mother's defrosted strawberries, made a kind of thin syrup and the woman ate it. She ate it to my husband's chagrin. In the kitchen, he made faces because the very thought of how sweet such a snack would be was unbearable to him.

Do We Ever Admit to Being Old

So, here's the thing...the matriarch did not want to go to the spa this month. Not a big deal, I thought to myself, then I walked in on her cutting her own nails while sitting in her rocking chair. And, I looked at her and thought a number of things but said, aloud, "Don't you think we should take a visit for a manicure?"

"Nah, it costs too much..."

"But you can't cut your own nails."

"I do well enough." I guess so if one doesn't mind jagged, pointed, half-cut, knives at the end of one's fingers. The spa, for a once a month treatment, including pedicure, is not that expensive. It's a nice place; the people who run it are a Chinese family who make a big deal out of the matriarch's visits and usually give her a discount. Everything is done properly and the ladies usually paint flowers on the matriarch's nails. It is quite nice. I don't know what has gotten into the matriarch that she doesn't want to visit. For a side comment, I am not going to participate in my mother-in-law's grooming and she doesn't want me to do as much. But, we are back to the reality that my mother-in-law doesn't want to go to the spa.

It is her choice.

As much as I want the woman to go to the spa, I cannot force her; I can conjole, encourage, suggest but I cannot make her go if she does not want to go. And, this is the problem, if that's what one wants to call it, of aging. Do we ever admit that we are incapable of making choices on our own? Can one just make a decision for another person despite their wishes?

I am just talking about a spa and the matriarch doesn't have any money per se, but the same principles apply to parents who lend money to irresponsible children or who refuse to admit a house may be too big for them or a situation unacceptable. I know in my mirror I see myself and sometimes I cannot believe I am 42; I imagine the matriarch must half-look in the mirror and wonder, disbelievingly, that she will be 100 this year. I cannot imagine what she thinks. But I do know she can do whatever she wants...if she wanted to leave neither my husband or I could stop her, if she wanted to get married again, she could. And, while you may think, that such things would never happen, this is a woman who got married post 85 and then divorced 6 years later.

There are these conflicts in my mind; I know there are older people who are just fine, I also know there are older people who aren't but the problem exists with the older people who think they are fine, but are not. Do we ever admit we need assistance? And, does needing assistance mean relinquishing independence? And, then, which is what I struggle with most of all, does providing assistance automatically mean the assistant is supposed to be on call 24/7? It is all so confusing and there is no set rule for a general practice. I am not supposed to resent the matriarch but I absolutely do when she just expects certain things until she doesn't and then gets mad at me for not knowing. The key, of course being, how do I know if she doesn't tell me? What obligations are there, in old age, to tell people what one wants and needs as opposed to expecting them to know? And, the crux of the problem, I think, are these questions really connected to old age or are they hold overs from the characters we develop when we are younger?

Why Suzanne Somers is Wrong and Aging is Awful

On January 4, the matriarch telephoned her friend to see how the woman was doing and found out she was in hospital and wanted no visitors. Today, she telephoned the woman's husband again and found out her friend was dead; she had died three days after the last phone call. What do you say to comfort someone who looks at you and says, "There's no one left. They are all dead. I have no one left to call."

For the most part, the matriarch is well; she is confusingly blind but she is able to walk, manage the stairs, take care of herself and watch the news. So, I make her meals but she does know who Stephen Harper is, Dalton McGinty and she could vote if she really wanted to vote. The matriarch can tell me when she needs candies or chips; she is not too good with the fresh fruit in her room, but can certainly make her bed. I don't know what really amounts to self-sufficiency but my heart goes to someone who is the last of her kind, whose friends have all moved on...

I think Suzanne Somers is wrong; living a long life is pointless if there is no one with whom to share it. Whatever I really think of the nature of the matriarch the point is, at one time, she did have friends and now they are dead. And the matriarch is still living. All alone.