I wept today.

I have been visiting my Mom and Dad. Dad will move into an Alzheimer’s/Memory Care unit. I struggle with this. My Mom’s reality of always being with him is a paradigm that is being changed as I write. Siblings and friends express concern, give counsel, provide prayer from a distance. This is not about me. My sisters and brother have been heroic in attempting to discern what is best. I write though. I blog.

Mom cannot care for Dad, medically, physically, and emotionally. She has courageously given of herself. They both have done so well. “A time has come for a change Dad, I am sorry but we must do something different. I have tried but I can’t go on any further.”

I wept today.

I was eating lunch with mom and noticed four ladies sitting together. Their husbands have passed away. All the residents sit at tables of four. They were like four sisters chatting, telling stories, and laughing. I went to them after lunch and thanked them for their example of courage. I thanked them for the joy it brought me to watch them and listen to them. I was so happy for them; they had each other between the visits of loved ones that would visit.

I wept today.

In the course of four days, I visited five Nursing Homes with mom, my brother, sister and friend of my sister. We walked around, asked questions and had consultations. As we passed through the Alzheimer Unit or Memory Care areas, I held back tears. Then I wept. Is this it? Is this what happens when Dad moves into a place like this?

I wept today.

She waved at me from a distance. I waved back. She waved again. I waved back. Then I realized this elderly lady was waving at someone else, behind me. By this time, I was waving at five or six people. It was silent, no talking. Just waving. I guess I was not ready when the lady that started it all came up to me, pushed on a wheel chair by a caregiver. “Thank you,” she said. Such simplicity.

I have made friends with some of the residents. They stop by to say hi or goodbye.

I wept today.

I did little errands for mom. She was so grateful. I listened. We talked. We had our little daily routine. We processed a theme that kept coming to my mind: “I want the best for Mom with excellent care for Dad.” My siblings do too. Grateful I am to them. Dad wanted to watch the Seattle Mariners. He slept most of the time. We always talked about a desire to go to the College World Series together. He can’t remember. We never did. He coached me in Little League, taught me how to be a catcher. He had played semi-pro baseball. He knew the sport. He can’t recall.

I wept today.

As we sat with the Community Relations Director for the Memory Care Center at Emeritus Oaks I heard her say, “We will join your Dad’s journey, where ever he is.” I liked it. “If he is missing the smell of an apple pie, we will join him and bake a pie.” I heard a little Starbucks philosophy, that teaches baristas to say “yes,” if at all possible.

I was so encouraged. I loved the thought of “joining the journey.” Shouldn’t we be doing that with each other anyway, like now?

It is time to leave Poulsbo, WA, a beautiful Scandinavian town on Liberty Bay. Due diligence has been accomplished. Some huge decisions have been made and will place in motion other decisions. It is 4:30 am. I need to catch the shuttle that will take me to the airport, an hour and half drive as the sun comes over the Narrows Bridge connecting Kitsap Peninsula and Tacoma.

I say goodbye to Dad in the dark. He is snoring. I kiss his forehead. I touch his feet.

“I will join you in your journey Dad.”

Grateful I am!

I wept today.