Ever since my younger sister passed away about a year and a half ago, I've been after my mom to move down to Florida to be close to us. Believe me when I say this has not been an easy sell. My mom has lived her whole life in the Chicago area and at 85 years old, change of any kind is not especially welcome. She frets about finding a new hairdresser, doctor(s), church and making new friends. Truthfully, I had been pushing her for selfish reasons. I wanted her to live a few minutes drive away instead of 1100 miles away so that I could be there instantly in case she needed me. I also wanted to continue building our new "just the two of us" relationship that seems to have evolved into something much nicer than it was when I was a teenager. And finally, I'll admit that aside from seeing her, I didn't much enjoy the trips up to the out-of-the-way farm community that she lived in.
Finally, this past spring she agreed. She was insistent that she would not live with us, that she wanted to maintain her independence as long as she could. Mike and I have a four bedroom house so we were at a bit of a loss to understand why she wouldn't just come with us, but she wouldn't waver. After much hunting and reviewing several options, she decided to purchase a small home in a retirement community about 7 minutes away from me. Perfect! The plan was (is) that over the summer I would work with various vendors and contractors to get her new place in ship shape order and in mid September I'd fly up and drive her and her car down here. One week ago was the closing and I got to work immediately.
Suddenly, there is a potentially big wrinkle. Mom has developed a serious eye infection in her left eye which is being treated, but could possibly cause her to lose all or some of her vision in that
eye. She has acknowledged that this may portend the end of her driving days which scares and saddens her. It scares and saddens me too. I realize that even though she desperately wanted to be independent, she may end up being quite dependent on me after all.
As I was explaining her situation to my son yesterday it suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. This could so easily be Mike and I in 25 (or less) years. I love all of my children dearly, but do I want to depend on them to chauffeur me around or look after me on a 24/7 basis? My immediate reaction is "no way!" I may look at it differently if I eventually find myself in a situation like hers - maybe I would be relieved if one or more of my kids stepped up and insisted on taking care of me. The idea, though, of being dependent or being a burden on my children or grandchildren is abhorrent to me. I picture them arguing amongst themselves "It's your turn to go see them, I went the other day!" - "No, it's your turn, I can't go - the kids have a soccer game" - you get the picture.
With this shift in perspective I can appreciate her insistence on independence, though if it turns out she loses her sight in one eye, she may well have to reconcile a much higher degree of dependence than she's comfortable with. Whether she loses her vision or not, our dynamic is likely going to change in the coming months as she makes her move here. The reality is that she's 85 and has mobility issues. At some point, I may end up her full time caregiver. I want to be a good daughter and be there for her for a myriad of reasons (far too many to delve into right now). I hope that when our roles have truly reversed and I find myself exhausted, impatient or resentful that I'm able to remind myself that one day this will be my reality, too and hold on to my compassion and sense of humor. I see this as a test, of sorts, of my moral fiber and I hope I can be the person I want to be. Time, as they say, will tell.
With this shift in perspective I can appreciate her insistence on independence, though if it turns out she loses her sight in one eye, she may well have to reconcile a much higher degree of dependence than she's comfortable with. Whether she loses her vision or not, our dynamic is likely going to change in the coming months as she makes her move here. The reality is that she's 85 and has mobility issues. At some point, I may end up her full time caregiver. I want to be a good daughter and be there for her for a myriad of reasons (far too many to delve into right now). I hope that when our roles have truly reversed and I find myself exhausted, impatient or resentful that I'm able to remind myself that one day this will be my reality, too and hold on to my compassion and sense of humor. I see this as a test, of sorts, of my moral fiber and I hope I can be the person I want to be. Time, as they say, will tell.
