Walking My Mom Home

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I am walking my mom home, which is a metaphor for watching her transition. She is healthy, 85 years old, has Parkinson’s, and is slowly decompensating.

We were a family of five but two of my brothers passed, and my dad recently passed. I was not the favored child, but my mom gets what she gets. She looked at me the other day after my brother and father passed and said, “I guess it’s just you and me kid.”

I have been on TNation for eleven years different names, different times. I can be oppositional.

I figured walking my mother home was worthy of a thread. So - here it is.

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My mom is 73 and has Alzheimer’s. She is disappearing rather quickly. I can honestly say that I was her favorite. It was a running joke in our family, but it was also true. I’m her youngest and the most like her. We look alike, talk alike, have the same sense of humor. I suffer quite a bit of guilt because I left home when I was 24 and I never looked back. I moved 600 miles away and started my own family. I would (and still do) visit when I could, but still was very gone from her life. It’s been quite difficult to watch her devolve.

She always had the gift of gab and now struggles to find basic words. She can no longer complete sentences. She can no longer write her own name. Most days she doesn’t remember mine.

Fortunately she still loves to laugh. Even if she can’t get the story that is in her head out you can tell by her laughter that it was a funny one. She danced with all 3 of her daughters at my nephews wedding. The last time she saw my son she pointed at him and said, I know you. I love you.

Thank you for this thread. I hadn’t planned to start my day crying, but it’s good to talk about her.

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I am a few hundred miles away from my mom right now, have been for five days, will be for another nine days. I am worried about her because she doesn’t eat when I am gone, barely eats when I am home. The last time I was gone she fell getting up from her chair. The time before that my dad passed. I just hope she doesn’t fall again while I am gone.

Or while I am home.

Parkinsons affects her gait. She looks drunk most of the time, stumbling from counter to counter. She fell at breakfast last week, walking into the restaurant. I was in a hurry to get our names in so we didn’t have to wait. I parked close, opened her door, walked her to the door, then went in and she fell behind me.

I felt like an asshole for not being there. My mom is regal and she was embarrassed and I was embarrassed for her, and to be honest, for myself.

She shook it off like a champ. She has a philosophy degree and worked for the phone company as an engineer - managing projects like switching stations.

She had bacon and eggs. She is beginning to look like my grandmother, who I loved dearly. My grandmother had alzheimers. I am beginning to see symptoms in my mom - she repeats herself, forgets stuff. Three months ago she was the shit taking care of my dad, but now, not so much.

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I walked my mom home last Nov. Let me tell you. It’s the hardest thing I have ever done. Watch the person who always took care of everything slowly, and painfully slip away.

Trying not to cry typing this. (unsuccessful)

She didn’t have any mental illness (well, no more than she ever had :sweat_smile:), until the day before she passed. Something changed after last hospital visit. I don’t know if she had some kind of mini stroke or what but it went south in a hurry. It was awful. After she passed the doctor asked how long had she had dementia, she didn’t. Her body was failing, not her mind.

My heart goes out to you. It is not easy, but it she is lucky to have you. Hang in there.

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Everyone in my family has dropped dead suddenly, so I’ve never had the pain or privilege of walking any of them home (fantastic metaphor).

My daughter called crying one day, and said “What am I going to do if you die?” I answered that I’m in her head - she knows exactly what I would say in almost any given situation, because luckily I am both predictable and repetitive. I hope we get some time to walk together before I go home, so I can tell her any important things I may have left out to this point. I hope I don’t just drop out from under her, like my parents and grandparents did. (Great. Now I’m crying, too.)

My heart goes out to each of you, and your moms.

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This is tough man. Sorry that your Mom is going through this. I’m sure the distance makes it even tougher. I imagine your gonna have some hard decisions to make in the hopefully not to near future.
You’ll both be in our thoughts.

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This is my mom too. She forgets that she is supposed to eat. She also forgot that she smokes. I guess you could look at that as a good thing, but it shows you how bad her brain is functioning that it has completely forgotten the addiction.

I get this too. Usually we are around people we know so they know what is happening. But sometimes if we go out in public, she has an obsession with kids. Like, she wants to talk to them and will kind of grab at them. Not in a bad way, but if you don’t know her, it makes people super uncomfortable. I usually have to pull her away, smile and apologize to the strangers and explain quickly that she has Alzheimer’s. My sister has the same feelings. And then she feels badly because she is embarrassed by moms behavior. I try not to be too hard on us. It’s painful. And the way people look at her is painful. I know she would be embarrassed. Then I get so sad.
I’m also afraid. I’m afraid this will be me in 30 years. I am changing my diet and my exercise and my sleep. Partly because it makes me look and feel better, but mostly because I’m trying to push back what I am afraid is probably inevitable. Can I really be this much like her and not end up where she is? Will my kids have to watch this happen to me? God I hope not. I can’t tell you how much I wish I could just have a normal conversation with her. Ask her questions and have her be able to answer them. I talked to her on the phone earlier and that usually makes my grief hit pretty hard. Thanks for giving me a space to let it out. And for an ear that understands the pain.

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I shared the expression “walking my mom home” with a new client on Tuesday. It’s her dad, and the relationship is a very complicated one. Her mother was quite ill throughout her childhood, and her father impatient to the point of being mildly abusive. Now he has Alzheimer’s, and she struggles with finding compassion for him that he didn’t find for their struggling family when she was growing up.

Anyway, I think it’s a wonderful way to express it, and I think it was helpful to her along with the other stuff we explored (what those years were like for him, her mother’s choice to stay despite having options).

I think having it in my arsenal of evocative quotes and phrases will be helpful over and over again.

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We lost my wifes grandmother yesterday after a long slide into senility, convalescence and finally death.

I didn’t chime in yesterday or previously because I wanted to wait for the impact of it to become clear before putting any thoughts down.

I didn’t like the woman. I don’t begrudge her family their feelings, I just have different ones. In the relativism that is familial love, I understand my wifes mixed emotions and how she got them. Loving granny is what she was told to do so thats what she did in the form it took within their family.

I don’t want to speak ill of the deceased, so I’ll just leave it at that.

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I appreciate the vulnerability and openness of those that have posted in response to me. I don’t want to drop daily updates, but will update as appropriate. I do want to respond.

What a beautiful feeling that must be. My middle brother was my mother’s favorite. He was all of our favorite so I didn’t feel slighted at all, especially because I was his favorite.

My mother does not have any sort of dementia other than just being old and her processor is slowing down. She likes to tell stories - really likes to tell stories. Sometimes I get tired of hearing a ten minute story that has a one minute point, but then I realize I have time to listen, that she listen to plenty of my stories, and I just go with the flow.

My mom made it clear that she figured her job was to work herself out of a job - preparing us for when we were eighteen and got kicked out of the nest. As my kids make their way in this world without me, and I feel neglected, I am reminded that this is how it works. So don’t feel bad for flying when you were 24 - I am sure it just cemented your place as her favorite.

Well said. It is only painful for us - normally.

Thank you. It’s nor actually sad for me, at least not overwhelmingly so. My particular theology allows me to recognize that she is going home. We still giggle and laugh, talk smack about the two brothers and my father, and reminisce.

Blessing and a curse, I guess. My father lingered and I am of the age that I have decided that I am not going to linger. Possibly because I likely won’t have anyone to care for me and I don’t want to drain the family wealth through long term health care.

For the record, Ram Dass is the originator, as far as I now, of the metaphor, “We are all just walking each other home.”

I think my kids are ready for my death. I could be wrong. There is a difference in the relationship between mothers and daughter - it’s something I will never know. I doubt I am built for it. After years of tension between my daughter and me, we are slowly getting closer. I moved out when she was thirteen (22 now). I am close to my son (he was eleven), but it’s like dude close. We talk religion, politics, but I never had the closeness that I wanted. He is settled, successful (nineteen) so far, and seems to be well adjusted. Part of being well adjusted is being separated from his parents and living without needing us (including his mom). He loves us, just doesn’t need us (other than tuition and room and board, lol).

A long way of saying that I sort of miss having the closeness that you have with your daughter, but acknowledging that I don’t have that bandwidth.

I appreciate this. I am only distant from her until Monday when I go back. I have been gone for two weeks - about as far as I push it these days. I am a short flight away if anything happened, but still a worry as I do most of the cooking and all of the shopping.

The hard decisions have been made (by her). She wants to find the right place for senior living (I might go with her, long story), wants to sell the house. We are blessed with first world problems in that her estate is large enough that we have tax issues. I plan to stay close to her for most of the year, travel the rest of the year. Never more than a month or two away - Asia, Ecuador, Mexico, Spain, Portugal, and time with my kids.

This was my maternal grandmother with Alzheimer’s/Dementia - she loved kids.

Now I am crying, lol. I’m an overly sensitive cat. When my wife or kids come to me to bitch about something, I get angsty because I want to fix it. Usually, they just want to vent and have someone hear them. Guys like to fix stuff - I want to give you advice to make you feel better.

But I am not going to. I am just going to say that I hear you, I feel your pain, and I wish I could help. Feel free to use this space as often as you want.

Yes, I loved the metaphor. I also like saying that someone got promoted - I think death is a promotion. I realize death and heaven and all of that is personal to each person, but my family had a few inappropriate terms - dirt nap, won’t be here tonight, shed their physical vessel, out of pain, etc . . . Cliche phrases are trite for a reason - they resonate.

I am sorry for your family’s loss. I appreciate your pause before sharing. Very stoic (admirable).

My father was sick for a long time and my mother took care of him - to her detriment. I resented him. I loved him, but like most father and son relationships of our generation (I’m a few years older than you), it was complicated. I miss him, but he was 86 and had been sick for a long time, so he was blessed to get promoted.

My oldest brother was a different story. Things are just a little brighter without him in the world. Like you, I don’t want to speak ill of the promoted, so we will both leave it at that.

I apologize for the lengthy post. Appreciate the sentiments, hope to have more meaningful conversations as I walk her home.

I hope it is a long conversation.

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Thanks man. It hit my wife pretty hard at first, then faded quickly. Now she’s the one making all of the phone calls and arrangements.

In the time that “granny” had been in a care facility, my wife used the time to work through the five stages of grief & loss, but knowing how the story ends doesn’t change the innitial impact of when the story ends. So it hit her, she felt it, and is moving on.

The rest of her family is so full of pride, resentment and anger that there was already one big blowup and I’m sure there will be at least a few more.

I’m just going to dress nice, play nice, and let them do their thing. I’ve lost all of the big ones a long time ago- parents, grandparents, and too many others to count. Its actually kind of fortunate to have gotten it all out of the way early on when everything else was also a mess. It kind of cleared the slate for a better life down the road (now).

Her parents and uncle are past retirement age and are going to be squabbling over trinkets and nick-nacks like drunken trash pandas for the rest of their lives.

The grandfather will be going soon too. He’s 98 years old, and a true testament that people can carry on through sheer force of will. He lived for his wife in a very literal sense, and now that she’s gone he’ll certainly follow, very likely sooner rather than later.

So the showing and stuff starts Monday, funeral service & wake Tuesday. I’m looking forward to Wednesday.

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You are a wise man. Knowledge plus experience equals wisdom.

A lot to unpack here, but I don’t think it is for me to unpack - figure you are much better at it than I.

I guess that is the beauty of being the last man standing. Both of my parents were only children, neither of my brothers had kids, my oldest brother’s wife is angry, no contact with me or my kids, so I guess my kids get to pick the carcass. Which they have already done, with my mother’s blessings.

My daughter is crafty - as is my mom - and has her eye on my mom’s sewing machine. It’s pretty nice, was like $2K twenty five years ago. What my daughter doesn’t know is that she has another one at her summer place, lol.

I made a big deal out of giving my father’s watch to my son. The watch band is broken so I have to get it fixed. I showed it to him like it was a Rolex and told him he could take it and get the band replaced, I would pay for it, or I would put a new band on it and bring it to him - like it’s an heirloom.

It’s a Timex.

But, there is a Seiko somewhere in my father’s stuff too, so we will see how things work out.

My daughter also has her eyes on a clock of my mother’s - it’s shaped like a British Telephone Box. And her teapots, especially the musical ones. None of them worth anything, but my daughter appreciates my mom’s weird aesthetic.

So, trash pandas for sure, but beautiful that it is all theirs and there will be no infighting. And my mom just wants all of it gone yesterday so she can get the hell out and into Senior Living.

She will happily spend a thousand dollars to ship pennies of goods to her grandkids.

I am not sure I get this. My father specifically requested cremation, no memorial, no service, no obituary.

I am not sure what is up with my brother’s disposition. His wife had a memorial at a place he owned near us but did not invite me (understandable) or my mother (not defensible).

I want to be human composted, grow a few trees, have them planted in the yards of my kids homes at some point.

BTW, I saw an article the other day about the development of the Big Mac - are you familiar with that story?

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My mom and dad both. I did put small obituaries in the paper for each but that’s it, per their wishes. My aunt (dad’s sister) lost her shit! I told her if she wanted to do one against his wishes to go for it. I will have no part of it. He said, " if you didn’t want to come see me while I was alive, don’t come crying over me when I am dead."

Now, they all think I am a heartless bitch, but I am good with that. I did what THEY wanted not what everybody else wanted.

Like you, I am the last man standing so not much squabbling to be done. One of my ex’s inlaws had a genius idea about this. She knew her time was limited so she took a sharpie and marked everything. Who was supposed to get what, and what went to the garage sale/ thrift store. End of story. No fighting…lol

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Its a chance to say goodbye and give closure, I think. At least thats the line I’ve always been told. I’ve had mixed feelings about it.

I might have mentioned it a time or two, but I lost my teen first love at 17. Its a complicated story, but due to medical malpractice she died very painfully. Her face was frozen in a grimace that the morticians couldn’t undo. It was horrible. So thats the last I saw of her- a painfull shrieking frozen in place. I’ll never forget that, and could really have done without it. She was absolutely beautiful in life, and I’d do almost anything to erase that last memory.

At my dads it was like a parade of empty promises. All of the losers that he hung out with shaking my hand, saying “Jimbo was a great guy…” while he drank away my paper rout money with them. And empty offers of “if you need ever need anything…” as if they were worth a fuck. Hell of a time to choose to lie to somebody, thats for sure.

I’m sure I’m not the only one that has had a few bad experiences with them, and its no surprise that its a fading trend.

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I would say fuck em but I am trying not to cuss anymore.

As such, we are the victors and get to write history.

If winning was important.

But it’s not.

Kind of.

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From Yoonyin tahn! (Thats yinzer for Uniontown. @BethB will get it. :rofl:) An army marches on its stomach. Hard work requires big food.

The region has good history with big sammiches (Primanti’s)! Hoagies too. Not subs, not grinders. Hoagies. Big baked monstrosities that barely fit on a 16 inch bun.

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I do love you phenetic spelling for Pittsburghese.

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I keep it classy anat.

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This is what I want as well. I can’t think of anything better that truly going back to the earth. I won’t get into anything spiritual as that is not in my wheelhouse, but I think that becoming a part of new life (feeding the growth of a tree) is how you become infinite. I love the idea that the atoms that make up my body were once stardust and they will move on to the next thing and the next and the next long after the people who ever knew my name are gone.

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When I was about seven, we went on vacation and our belove poodle Spike (my parents wanted a Bulldog, could not afford one) got hit by a car. We took him to the vet, dead, put him in a trash bag (lovingly, and drove him ten hours home where my father buried him in the back yard.

Soon after, we got a Cocka Poo named Suzie who lasted fourteen years, and when she passed, my father dug a hole and buried her in the yard.

Not long after that, my maternal grandfather passed and my brother looked at me and said, “Dad is going to die digging that hole.”

We were thirty, at least.

I have a friend that is into Eastern stuff and he told me that god means Generator, Organizer, Destroyer. I am sure it is based in Hinduism - but She Generates life, Organizes Life, and Destroys life - not in a negative way, just that we decomposed (destroy) to generate new life.

I just want to be a tree in my kids’ back yard.