Happy Mother's Day!
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| Day Lillys, Mom's favorite! |
I totally failed to write yesterday as
promised, my apologies!
To make up for it, I figured a Mom's
Day special would be a good challenge. However, as my Mom doesn't
run, this post will be a bit about a Mom dealing with my Dad's
Parkinson's.
My mother, Marsha, grew up all over the
Southeastern US. She is the daughter of talented migrant farmers, and
if you want a wholly depressing idea of what that means, read a short
story titled Angel City, by Patrick D. Smith.
That being said, everyone always told
me that my Grannie Berlie loved her three kids more than anything,
and would “give up her last penny” for any of them. So, my Mom
was always very loved, no matter what circumstances they were brought
up in. Mom passed that love on to all three of us boys.
We were very lucky having a
“stay-at-home” mom for much of our childhood. Whether it was
staying up till midnight to help finish a pasta map of Australia, or
being up early to start laundry while fixing school lunches, Mom
never really complained, at least not to us. I am sure, though, that
Dad got regular earfuls of how we tortured her, or each other, or the
cats, hamsters or turtles. It has been twenty years since the last
baby left the nest, and now Mom once again deals with all that,
except now she is taking care of my Dad.
Now, it's a good time to say that for
all the challenges Dad has, he is not too bad yet. Mostly, his
balance and his short-term memory are the culprits. However those two
things can present a world of unforeseen caveats when it comes to
something simple, like laundry.
Imagine if you will, Mom will come home
from a full day at work, and she will find fourteen tons of laundry
filling the living room. No real order to it, and in the middle is
Dad slowly folding clothes that may, or may not, be clean.
Here is what might have happened: Dad
wanted to help out around the house and feel useful, so he started on
the job Mom likes the least, laundry. In the midst of this work he
over-exerted himself, possibly fell but definitely felt dizzy, and he
sat down to rest while the wash was running. Then, he forgot he was
doing laundry. You get the idea. The end result is Dad frustrated
that he no longer sees himself as able to provide, and Mom is
frustrated first out of sympathy fro the man she loves, then out of
bother because of the amount of work now ahead of her. Also, there
was probably a red sock forgotten in the whites.
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| That one red sock |
The above exceptionally simple
description applies to so many things around the house: the dishes,
the trash, the mail, even dinner. All these things become mountainous
challenges, daily, all because of Parkinson's.
What truly must frustrate the most
though, is that when you're a teenager's mother, you know they are
learning and developing, and will eventually grow up and move out.
The torment will be over. For the wife of a Parkinson's patient,
though, it's almost a Benjamin Button effect, where the person you
care for the most in this world, slowly devolves, and there is no
graduation day to look forward to; there is just more pink laundry to
fold.
So, now that I've induced melancholy, I
shall try to explain why all this is a beautiful thing on a day like
today.
Our Moms continue to make sacrifices
long after all the kids go off to start their own families. You are
always going to be loved by the person who literally gave of her own
life to create yours. Remember today, and every day, that your mother
will never stop being a Mom, and that she needs you.
Hopefully, this snippet of my life has
inspired you to do two things:
CALL YOU MOM!!!!
Donate to Team Fox now, please, so
that one day soon nobody's mom has to discover the things which mine
does every day when living with Parkinson's.
Thank You
