Adventures in Caregiving - This Has Never Happened Before

So here I am, writing after several months away. But today was a day. And all before 11am.

Morning sky 2/4/2026 

The morning started out like it normally does. I got up, got dressed, took Sparkle out, grabbed the photo above, spent some time with a glass of juice and posted my #photoaday entry, then booted up my laptop for work. After working for a bit, I got Dad up and everything seemed fine. I took some garbage and recycling out, came back in and took Sparkle out. All usual.

While I was out with Sparkle, I heard sounds like Dad was eating his breakfast. Which would also be normal. Sometimes he eats everything right away. Sometimes it takes him a bit, but he has a few bites, then reads something, then eats a few bites more, and so on. Sparkle does her thing and then comes in fairly quickly - which is again normal for her time out after I've gotten Dad up and settled.

I walk into the kitchen and the first thing I see is that Dad's breakfast bowl is empty. Which, I originally thought meant he must have been hungry so he ate all his breakfast. However, upon closer inspection, his oatmeal was all over the kitchen table. And, it hadn't really had time to set so it was thick, so it was basically like water and oats all over the kitchen table. And not only was the oatmeal all over the table. But he had also dumped his coffee all over the table.

He hasn't been the neatest eater since everything happened to him health-wise. But it's usually something small dropped on his lap that either I clean up or Sparkle gets. Sometimes it's something on his hands. Or a small bit on the table around him. But never his entire breakfast and coffee all over the table.

Grace, which I have adopted as my word this year, was hard to come by.  

So I move Dad away from the table. I grab a roll of paper towels and some gloves. And I get to cleaning up the mess. Removing our nice cloth bird place mats that Mom must have bought years ago and put them away somewhere so we never used them, rinsing them off, and then putting them somewhere out of the way to dry off. Wiping away all the oatmeal. Drying off the table. And washing the table down so it didn't smell like blueberries and cream oatmeal and coffee. Dad gets moved back to the table. I reheat him some coffee. And I make him a new bowl of oatmeal. Then I sit with him at the table. He takes a spoonful of oatmeal and goes to put it on the table.

Now I know how his oatmeal and coffee wound up all over the table.

I redirect Dad to eat the oatmeal, and if it was too warm, to blow on it before putting it in his mouth. Which he does. And he eats his breakfast with no other incidents. To make sure he drinks his coffee or the very least doesn't dump it all over the table, I stay and do the dishes while keeping an eye on what he is doing.

The adventures of caregiving keeps on giving. 

Friday Feelings - Why is Year 2 Harder?

When Mother's Day hit in May, it seemed both my sister and I struggled with the loss of Mom more than we had the previous year...when it was our first Mother's Day without her. We both said we didn't understand why the second year was harder than the first.

Months have gone by - other celebrations...Dad's birthday. Memorial Day. Fourth of July. My birthday. And now we are at Halloween. And I am so, so sad.

Vacating storm clouds 10/30/25

 

I don't understand why. I didn't get to participate in the Halloween celebrations at work this year, but I didn't get to last year either. I did dress up last year but I'm just not feeling it this year. We got candy for the house and as usual I'll be the one handing it out. I've done it for years...last year because I'm the only one who could and years before it was just easier than mom having to move around to do it. So that's nothing new.

But it seems I am really having a problem with Halloween this year. It is making me so sad.

I'm seeing memories of past years when I did dress up - either for work or for the church's Trunk or Treat. And when I would pick up Chinese food for dinner because it was easy to grab before the Trick or Treaters started showing up at the house.  And it all makes me so sad. So sad that this year, the first time in so many years, I'm just making stuff at home for dinner for Dad and I because I don't want Chinese food.

I don't get it. Why is year 2 so much harder than year 1? And why am I sitting here trying to type this up through tears? I mean, it's only Halloween! Growing up Halloween was fun - but it wasn't like what you would think of as a family holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas. 

I wish I had the answer because I'd be telling myself what the answer is so I'd stop crying! 

The Last Time

 A year ago today was the last time I saw my mother alive.

It was Tuesday of Holy Week. I did what I normally did on a day I went to see Mom. I stopped working a bit early, then drove to the facility where she was, spent time with her, and then left. Our pastor was doing evening meditative services Monday through Wednesday, so after spending time with mom, I headed to the service. 

When I saw Mom, I knew things were not going well. Though she had been getting weak, I could at least get her to drink something while I was with her. And I wound up getting there when they served her dinner, so sometimes I could get her to eat a bite or two of what she was brought. Or, again, get her to drink the juice they would bring with her meal.

But Mom didn't want to drink. She didn't really want to see any photos from home that I would normally show her. She just laid there, asleep, not complaining about pain or anything else. So I stayed with her in silence for awhile, until I had to leave to get to the service I wanted to attend.

I knew the end was coming. And during the meditative service I found myself not only weeping knowing what we were coming closer and closer to in thinking about Jesus' life but also that my Mother's life was coming to an end.

But what I dwell on the most are the last words I said to her.

I always told her I loved her when I left and always gave her a kiss on her head. Which is what I did when she was home and I went to bed. But I also always said when I would see her again. For Mom, I usually saw her Tuesdays and Fridays. So I would go, "I love you Mom. I will see you on Friday!" or "I love you Mom. I will see you on Tuesday!" But this time - because it was Holy Week, I wasn't sure when I would get back up to see her.

So, instead I said, "I love you Mom. I'll see you soon."

I regret that a lot. I regret not being able to figure out when I would be able to see her again so I could tell her that. I regret not saying more. Maybe because now I know that was going to be the last time I saw her alive I wish I had said more.

I wish I had thought to thank her for being such a great mother, despite the times we had our differences.

I wish I had thought to thank her for only thinking it a little crazy traveling places to see large organs and famous organists.

I wish I had thought to thank her for pushing me to do the things I wanted to do and for doing what she could to help give me time to finish assignments or have meetings even if it meant I wasn't home or locked myself in my room, much to the chagrin of Sparkle who would bark and cry at my closed door.

I wish I had thought to thank her for encouraging me to take over cooking the large meals at holidays, including making her famous mustard pineapple sauce. And for having me learn to make her Toll House Cookies.

I wish I had thought to thank her for a lot of things and not waited until it was too late.

Good Bye 2024

 

12/31/24

To say 2024 was a year I don’t want to repeat would be an understatement. 

It all started a year ago when I fought and struggled to get Mom to get off the couch and to the bathroom. She kept thinking she had gone. And kept saying she needed to rest before getting up. And she just couldn’t stand up. She promised me after we had dinner that she would. Jessica and I had a whole text conversation about it.  It was the beginning of the 3 month end. 

I’ve dealt with a lot since then. Some days are a bigger struggle than others. But through it all, I know God is watching over me. 

Yes, there has been a lot of sadness and pain, both physical and emotional. But there have been some positives amid all that. 

I celebrated 25 years of full-time employment at Marist. I started a certification program in worship leadership. I found joy and solace in singing. I returned to Annual Conference. I went to Cape Cod, New York Comic Con, and Lancaster County. I adjusted to working from home while caring for Dad. And I adjusted to sleeping with Sparkle, who sometimes likes to hog up my bed.

I learned about family and friends and friends who are like family. And I valued all those relationships because they are the ones who got me through this year. And that will help me get through 2025. 

I argued in my head for a while whether or not to do our usual New Year’s dinner. Because it was the last real meal Mom ate (and enjoyed!). And I wasn’t sure I could do it. But tomorrow I will be making our usual meal. I’ll have a friend over to share in the meal with Dad, Jessica, Alex, and possibly Anastasia. And start to make new memories to help ease the pain of the old ones. 

Have a Happy New Year!

Monday Musing - Apple Cider Donuts

A few weeks ago Adams started selling their apple cider donuts in the front of their stores. They are also in the store in the bakery area but there's nothing like the smell of the donuts as you walk in and out of the store.

Bought in mid-September 2024

Now, I don't really like apple cider donuts - no matter where they are from. But there are other people in the house who do like them.

But here's the thing...when the apple cider donuts started getting advertised in the weekly flyer from Adam's, it was Mom's request every week after church that either Jessica or I stop at Adam's to pick up a pack of apple cider donuts for her before bed snack every week.

It was hard buying that first pack of donuts in mid-September. Because of the memory of buying them on a weekly basis for Mom.

But now I seem to be making new memories of why I'm buying the donuts.

Dad likes them as a change of pace for breakfast. Anastasia likes having one every once and awhile (because she prefers the Adam's apple cider donuts over other places). And Alex likes to have one too.

Mom's been gone for 6 months now. A whole half a year. And she was in the hospital and rehab for almost 3 months before that. Sometimes it feels like so long ago as we have kind of come to a new way of things in the house and we seem to have gotten used to not having her at home. But sometimes it still feels so new and I feel like when I come into the house after running out for something that she should still be sitting or laying on the couch when I come home. 

I used to only have to buy one package of donuts per week because Mom would have one a night for 6 nights and that was enough. But now I buy two because they are very popular in the house. So while I still have that memory of buying donuts for Mom on weekly basis I'm creating new memories of buying more donuts for Dad, and Alex, and Anastasia.

And I hope that's okay.

Monday Musing - The Service that was Hard

Yesterday I did something that I have done many times before, I led a worship service at church. But this one was harder than others.

My wireless mic of choice - a Wappingers Memory

I struggled a lot with coming up with a focus for the sermon, even though I had so much material to read and draw from. If you were there in person or watch the video back, I freely admitted this. I thought that maybe in all the reading I was just hit with a bit of writers block, which can happen to anyone.

But there was something else at the source of all this.

Turns out I was having another "I miss my Mom" moments.

My mom has heard or seen almost all of the services I have led - whether she was there in person or watched it live online or watched it later via YouTube. And the last couple years, even if she didn't see it or hear it or feel like watching it, she always knew when I was leading a service and would always ask me as soon as I came home and she was awake, "How did it go?"

I knew Mom wasn't going to be home on the couch waiting to ask me "How did it go?" And I guess in the back of my mind I was trying to avoid the inevitable. That I wasn't going to hear that and be able to answer that.

Yesterday was a hard one. Especially because it was also a year ago that I drove Mom home from her last vacation to Cape Cod. But hopefully that means the next one, whenever it is, will be a little easier.

Tuesday Thoughts - Another Thing I Miss

I am going to be 48 next month. And at least through December of this year, there was something I had to do otherwise I would fear the wrath of Mom. And that was call her at certain times.

Mom's Entry in my Phone

There were times I stayed late at work - sometimes it was because something was going on at work and I had to be there. Sometimes it was to attend an online meeting because it was quieter than trying to be at the same meeting at home. Before I left campus, I had to call home to let Mom know I was coming home.

There were times I headed down to White Plains for Conference meetings. Usually by the time I got there I only had time for a quick text to my sister, asking her to relay the message that I got to my destination okay. But when that wasn't possible, there were quick calls home to let Mom know I was there okay. And there were always calls once I got on the highway to let her know I was on my way home.

When I returned to choir or was at church for a meeting, there was always a call when I was on my way home.

Oh, and when I returned home from 1-day treks to Cape Cod to help Mom get herself up there or drive her and Dad around to places that they couldn't find, there was a call once I got home to let Mom know I made it home okay.

This went on until she was admitted in the hospital in January.

I don't know if it seemed weird to me because I lived in the house with her or what. But for years I found it slightly annoying. 

Until late last week. When it hit me that all Mom was doing was showing that she cared about me.

And I found I really missed being able to call her to let her know I was somewhere or that I was headed home. Not that I'm able to get out as much as I used to. 

The rest of my family cares about me - but there was just something different about the connection we had when I made those calls. 

I miss that caring.

I miss my Mom.