There are some pretty sweet moments around here. A week or so ago, I bought a new riding lawnmower, because it was less expensive than paying someone to mow the grass all summer. It is shiny and red and fun! Dad thought so too. Dad wants to mow the grass.
I mean, who can blame him! He has mowed the grass and done other manly things to help the family his entire life. So I taught him about the various levers and switches and what not, necessary to drive the mower. He got the mower started and made a few circles around the lawn, enough to create a smooth green area in the middle of the yard. He looked so happy. Then he was tired and so we put the mower away.
Today, I came home from work. Dad said he needed another lesson -- that he couldn't figure out how to start the mower. Apparently he had planned to mow while I was at work. It turned out that the lever that engages the mower blade was forward and it needs to be backward for the mower to start. Okay. Lesson learned.
Undoubtedly, he will mow today while I am at work. Maybe today he will be successful in getting the mower started. It terrifies me in a way. His mind is slow. His feet are hard to control. He could be unable to put on the brake in time and he could crash and be hurt. Will he remember he can just turn off the key? If he were hurt, my mother would not know for a while. She would be in the house. She can't see out the window. She is nearly blind. All kinds of bad things could happen.
But Dad is 89. If he has a crash, he has a crash. His happiness is so important now. He loves the new mower, like a kid loves a new bike. He likes the freedom of driving, when he can no longer drive on the road. He likes to be contributing to the family in a familiar way. I can't take that away from him.
Good luck Dad. And happy mowing.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Parkinson's, Blindness and Other Maladies
My father is 89. He has Parkinson's Disease. He is sweet and caring. And his mind has failed him. I see it in the lost look in his eyes, when he can't figure out where the trash bags have gone, even though they haven't moved. I can see it when he sees his own reflection in the living room windows at night, and thinks someone is in the yard, delivering propane at 10pm, even though logic would have told him otherwise in the past. I can see it when he wants to get out of his chair, and the will is there, but the body won't cooperate. It is not easy to function, when your mind betrays you.
You see, that is something I can understand. I have bipolar illness. I was diagnosed in college, 30 years ago. I know what it is like, when your mind betrays you. I have been very successful despite my illness. I am proud of that. I am a lawyer and an Executive Director for a small nonprofit. Sometimes the load of work and home gets to be a bit much for someone who is sensitive to stress and has depressive tendencies.
My mother is 85. She has macular degeneration. She can't see worth beans. She can't walk very well either. Her knees hurt. She can only stand for a matter of minutes. She can only walk a few feet without sitting down to rest. Mom is a little narcissistic. She also likes control. If you disagree with her, there is something wrong with you. I love mom. She just drives me crazy.
My daughter Rachel is about to be 14. She is a wonderful, easy, fun child. She is blonde and pretty and has beautiful freckles. She has needs too. She wants to have fun. She wants to have a happy mom. She wants to go to school dances, on trips and to girl scouts. She likes to do crafts and she loves the computer. She makes good grades and doesn't get into trouble. Thank the lord for that! She probably wants a vacation as much as I do right now.
In June of last year, my mom and dad moved in with me. Before they moved in, Mom said, remember, we are moving in with you. This is your house. I agreed. The story has not played out that way. This is a handful!
I want to tell my story, because it is therapeutic and also because I am hoping that sharing the journey will help someone else. I've only just begun it. I'm not sure where it will lead. Come along, if you like.
You see, that is something I can understand. I have bipolar illness. I was diagnosed in college, 30 years ago. I know what it is like, when your mind betrays you. I have been very successful despite my illness. I am proud of that. I am a lawyer and an Executive Director for a small nonprofit. Sometimes the load of work and home gets to be a bit much for someone who is sensitive to stress and has depressive tendencies.
My mother is 85. She has macular degeneration. She can't see worth beans. She can't walk very well either. Her knees hurt. She can only stand for a matter of minutes. She can only walk a few feet without sitting down to rest. Mom is a little narcissistic. She also likes control. If you disagree with her, there is something wrong with you. I love mom. She just drives me crazy.
My daughter Rachel is about to be 14. She is a wonderful, easy, fun child. She is blonde and pretty and has beautiful freckles. She has needs too. She wants to have fun. She wants to have a happy mom. She wants to go to school dances, on trips and to girl scouts. She likes to do crafts and she loves the computer. She makes good grades and doesn't get into trouble. Thank the lord for that! She probably wants a vacation as much as I do right now.
In June of last year, my mom and dad moved in with me. Before they moved in, Mom said, remember, we are moving in with you. This is your house. I agreed. The story has not played out that way. This is a handful!
I want to tell my story, because it is therapeutic and also because I am hoping that sharing the journey will help someone else. I've only just begun it. I'm not sure where it will lead. Come along, if you like.
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