Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The Mom

Today it was my turn to stay with my mom while my dad ran some errands. Many times through watching my parents negotiate through this "aging process" thing, I am struck by how similar our end-of-life behavior is to our beginning-of-life behavior. I am pretty sure most of us have observed this in one way or another.

My mom gets distracted easily, so getting her to eat in a timely fashion is a chore. She wants to do this; she wants to do that- anything but sit at the table and eat. If I have nowhere to go, or no place to be, it isn't an issue. If I am trying to get her out the door to a doctor appointment, it definitely is an issue. The same with raising my kids. I don't really care how long it takes them to eat breakfast if we are home for the day. If I have other things to do, then it matters a LOT to me when they finish. The difference? And here is the rub: my kids will eventually change their behavior. They will mature, and come to understand the necessity of time constraints, understand that their behavior affects other people, and usually will choose to cooperate, rather than continue on in a way that causes strife and discord. My mom? Not so much. She really doesn't understand that her behavior affects others. She used to. She used to be the one reminding me to finish my cereal and get my books ready for school. She used to be the one to pick me up for doctor appointments, Campfire Girls, PTA meetings, and play dates. Now? Not so much. My mom is happy to spend most of her day sitting on her swing in the backyard watching the birds and her garden, or sitting in her chair by the window watching the birds and her garden. She really doesn't care if she gets dressed for the day. She really doesn't care if she eats in 10 minutes or 1 hour. She really doesn't care that she already ate her piece of carrot cake before dinner, now needs to eat some "growing food" to stay healthy. She isn't going to change, mature and grow- that part of her life is over. So, it is up to me to figure out how to arrange our day so that she can take as much time as she needs, to just "be".

But I question myself- it is crazy for me to push, push, push her to eat, get dressed, and put on some lipstick? But then again, is it crazy for me to just "give up" on her? Maybe it is good for her to be called (more often than not) into the real world. But then I ask myself, why? What for? She is happy. She is safe. She is well-taken care of. She loves watching the garden. She loves watching the birds and the crazy squirrels in our yard. That might be enough. That might be okay. But mostly, like raising my kids, I am just floundering along, making stuff up as I go.