Having my elderly mother living with us the past few years has taught me a few things. I have decided that I do not want to live past 75.
My mother is 87. She is a shell of herself. She hasn't forgotten who she is, but she has forgotten most of what she's known. For sure she forgets what she said or asked five minutes ago, and says or asks it again. And again. And again...! I am the worst daughter. I cannot just understand that is the way things are now and be gentle with her. No, I get irritated and often end up biting her head off after the 4th time. Why can't I just be kind????
It seems that the choices for elderly that are not wealthy is a home that is paid by medicare, or living with a family member. I do NOT want to be in a medicare facility. I don't want to share a room with anyone, or be stuck in a 6ft x 6ft. space with no window! I don't want my family to be angry at me all the time or to feel guilty for being so. I do not want to be stuck in a house and never get to go anywhere. I don't want to be forgotten, but I don't want to be a burden either. No! Where is Kevorkian when you need him? I've never been a proponent of suicide and I am, quite frankly, too chicken to attempt it. But boy, the more I experience with my mom and with how the elderly are viewed these days, the more tempted I am.
My husband says Millenials love their dogs more than their aging parents. It IS hard! I can't say I blame them!
It also has come to mind that with the passing of my dad in 2016, and seeing my mom even forget where and when she got married, that our memories...our lives...our impact...on this world really only lasts 1 more generation. Once my siblings and I are gone, my parents are gone. That one thing probably shakes me more to the core than anything.
What have we done? We parented some kids. They, like I am, are going to be too busy with their lives to think about MY life and MY memories. So what happens to my story? I barely knew my dad's story. Mom can't remember much of hers anymore. They are pretty much gone.
I can make resolutions all day long to become a storyteller and record my life, but the truth is, I probably won't. I may leave some tidbits behind, but the depth of emotion and the reality of my most precious moments will be lost along with all those who went before me.
I don't mean this to sound so defeated and depressing. It is a sort of intimate thing that my personal stories will be taken with me. I have a tendency to romanticize everything, so to think of it as being MY story and only MY story comforts me in a way. I couldn't begin to document it all, so instead of being overwhelmed and saddened, I will tell some of my story and the rest, I lock away in my heart and take home with me. I can imagine someday, getting to unpack those memories with my heavenly Father. Holding them out for him to heal the broken places, laugh with me over the funny moments, and cheer me on for the victories.
I long to be a part of something bigger than myself. Thinking of my life in this way kind of does feel like that, like a movie moment when the story wraps itself up, but you know that it is not finished.
