All of A Sudden

 

My arena is changing, as is all life. But I just noticed that mine changed enough to seem like it changed all of a sudden.

 You know that place where “all of a sudden” just happens?

 Like all of a sudden you will need a haircut, your jeans are too tight, or you notice wrinkles on your face, that your bank account is empty, and you are getting old. You know it is coming, but you don’t notice until the effect has accumulated enough to get your attention.

 This just happened to me. I went home to visit my family and some close friends. After 14 months of island living, I reluctantly boarded a plane for LAX. I was about to enter a world familiar and yet alien all at once. I wasn’t on the plane for more than an hour that I started sneezing. I landed sneezing, red nose and stony eyes. Exhausted from getting ready to make the journey, now 10 PM, I mounted into a shared van and braved the freeways to my Mom’s house in Costa Mesa, CA.

 My Mom greeted me from her apartment, her pink door wide open in a senior housing unit within a very short walk of a large park, a library, fire station, The Coffee Bean, Sav On Drugs, FedEx Kinkos, a stellar yoga studio, 24 Hour Fitness, AT&T phone store, UPS Mail Store, Mothers Market, Trader Joes, Edwards Cinema Complex, the bus stop, Bev Mo Liquors, plus shoe stores, used clothing stores, baby furniture and so much more. In other words, it was nothing like the island living I was used to.

 I made a bed on her couch with a Kleenex box close beside me. The fan is on to help drown out the TV playing in her small bedroom room next to me. The patio door in the living area where I was sleeping has a stick in it to keep us safe from potential intruders, and the night-light is on in the kitchen three feet from my head. The bathroom is twelve feet away with a night-light too. This radically different than the natural setting I lived in.

There is something cute and quaint on every counter, table and wall. There are family photos everywhere along with large poster photos of Clark Cable and Marilyn Monroe. Mom’s make up mirror and makeup are on the edge of the bar that divides the living room and kitchen. There are rugs everywhere, tiger striped pillows along with a guitar and a small piano. It is funky, colorful, and has a sense of an organizational mess. The person who put this house together knows exactly what they want. She is messy, but most the time she is at least consciously messy.

The bottom line of what matters here is that her house feels inviting, cozy and loving, even though samall, dusty and crowded. Despite loud trucks unloading their cargo at 5AM when it is still dark, the hum of the 24-hour television, the earplugs hurting my ears, and the small too soft sofa, I sleep well. I guess it is because I am at home. This is Mom’s home and she is the one I have spent most of my life with. She is home to the deepest oldest part of me – the good, the bad, and the ugly – all wrapped up to signify my origin.

 Mom is 89. She runs the show in her apartment. I try desperately to make some space for my things, thus moving some of hers. I don’t think she will notice. She does. I adjust. She drives and lives on Insure and zucchini cakes. She is still very cute and how she looks is still as important as her days as a young teen when she worked in Hollywood theaters as an usher.  She won’t step out the door without her lipstick on. And, I better have mine on too, or I will hear about it.

 What I was not prepared for in any way was her memory or lack thereof.  Yes, she was forgetful last year and repeated stories to me over and over, but the stage at which her dementia had progressed was surprisingly alarming. It took me several days to catch on. I would forget that she forgets. Simple messages about where I was going and when I was coming home were thrown to the wind. When I asked what she would like to eat, I always got the same answer, “Nothing sounds good, but if you make it, I might have some”. After a while I quit asking.

Doctors called and ask that I monitor her medications. While there I caught on that she was taking over 7. I began to wonder if all of her 4 doctors ever talked. Then I would find prescription bottles tucked in her bed – some empty and some half full. When I tried to create order, she would get furious and hurt by my efforts. She felt helpless when reminded of her age, when all the while she is using every bit of her spirit to keep motivated and alive. She is sick, has Crohn’s Disease, and takes 4 Vicodan a day plus sleeping pills, blood thinners, steroids, antiviral meds, and more. She is in pain 24-7. I am terrified to drive with her, yet she drives just fine as long as she stays in her 1-mile radius.

 All of a sudden my Mother is an old person with dementia and she needs more care than ever before. All of a sudden I am the oldest of 4 who is caring for her. Last year she could still get dressed up to go out and sing, which she loves to do and is good at. This year she declines. She even declines a cocktail, which I had to make myself every night just to cope with my confused feelings. She once commented while I was there, “Oh God, I don’t want to grow old and not drink”. All of a sudden, what used to be fun is no longer.

 Don’t get me wrong. My Mom is not someone who is going to go down without a fight. Her ego and vanity are still in full bloom. She dyes her hair flame red, wears big hoop earrings and always looks stylish and adorable. Her big blue eyes are still full of wonder, and her sense of humor is vibrant. She is creative and once wrote a dozen clever children’s songs, which she longs to see published in the world.  She is a character that everyone loves. She is a family treasure for sure. 

There is more to my story of a family in change. My sister, one year younger than I is undergoing Chemotherapy for ovarian cancer. It is stage one, and she is doing great, but even so, there is a shift in how we spend our time together, what we talk about and how we relate.

 Last year, and all the years previous when my siblings and I gathered, we would get dressed up to go out.  With lipstick on and our sexiest clothes we would head to a friends house or to a local bar for Happy Hour. This year Mom and I got dressed up to visit my sister at the hospital while she received Chemo. Mom insisted on driving. As we went out the door, I raced back in and and found myself putting some Vodka and Tonic in my water bottle.  It was, after all, late afternoon. If my friends and customers could see me now. I needed to medicate myself while visiting the medicated. Oh my.

I was terrified to see my sister get chemo. Seriously, I did not think I could handle sitting in the large sterile room with IV’s attached to her. So, I tipped my water bottle containing my secret potion and eased into it.  She is not the only one there. What is happening to our people? I was overwhelmed at the destruction and prayed for help. My prayers were answered as I began to see that this was my opportunity to truly love unconditionally, to be in grace with every moment. I was shocked at my inability at times. Vodka helped.

As I look back I wish I could have laughed at all the insanity, the chaos and loony ness of it all, particularly in me. But, while I was there I just kept acting like the oldest of 4 children, trying to take care and fix as much as I could.

What I finally came to experience and who I came to be was just loving and accepting – sort of. No matter what any of us are doing we always have the choice of how we will “be”. I have come to realize that this is what matters most. Not that “doing” is not important. But, if doing comes with crankiness, anger or resentment, it might be better left undone. No matter if my Mom argues with me about what she said, or screams at me for intruding with her doctors, or my sister has decided to go a route I could never imagine, how I “AM” is what matters.

In retrospect I wish I could have been more fun. I wish I would have listened to my Mom’s stories over and over instead of reminding her that she already told me. I wish I spent more time watching stupid TV shows with her and participated more with movie star gossip. I wish I could have listened to her favorite radio show when she asked me over and over again to join her. I was just too busy it seemed, and honestly so uninterested. I was scared too. Is this where I am going? Oh God.

When I came home my nerves were fractured, and yet I had to show up for a full previously committed schedule for a couple days. I was so emotionally exhausted and ill equipped to respond when asked, “How was your trip? Did you have fun?” I wanted to scream, “NO”. It was not fun. It definitely had high moments, but I had not had time to process the profound “all of a sudden” changes to my life at home yet.  I felt confused and so far from the place of being I knew so well. Where did I go?

Two days after arriving home I finally had the space to go for a walk on one of my favorite beaches. I went early. There were hardly any other souls there. I took a big sigh when absorbing the look and feel of the trees and the vast ocean that lie before me. I approached the waters edge of soft lapping waves in a day dreamy state. The moment the water touched my feet a stream of energy erupted from my being and I began to cry. The cry turned into a sob, a loud sob as I progressed down the beach. Good thing there were no other souls around except the unseen ones who carried me and held me through my mourning.

Clarity came with the cleansing of my nervous system. I was grieving that life as I knew it with my family was “over”. A huge sense of sadness came over me for the loss of what was. I was in deep mourning. I cried and cried with sadness and gratitude all at once. Seriously, we have come so far, my family and me. We had lots of fun and we loved each other dearly. We were fortunate in so many ways. But, the place I have always journeyed to called “home” is different, all of a sudden. Perhaps that is what breaks my heart wide open. We have had such longevity together, and much of it is over. It went so fast.

The cleansing flow of grief gave room for the fear that was buried deep within me. All of a sudden I faced the fact that more loss was just around the corner.

 All of a sudden I am an elder who is facing the loss of my own.

My new challenge, which is really an old one newly recognized, is to stay in Grace with radically changing times. The only way I know how to do that now is to stay very close to my center and “be” in the vastness called God.  

Then when all of a sudden comes again I may not need Vodka.

4 Comments