Helping my aging mother is hard. "Handling" her has always been difficult for me; we clash on everything, beginning with personality, and ranging all the way to lettuce. This is really nothing new, and I am truly not surprised, and I find myself--often--wishing.
Her sight has deteriorated, and with it her feeling that life is worth living. Time and again, she has told us that there is nothing without seeing. She alternately tells strangers that she is legally blind (which may or may not be the case) and wonders why people think she can't see (because she doesn't attempt to focus on people's voices at times).
Guy asked her one evening if she believes sight is the most important of the senses. "Of course!!" she responded. "What other sense is?" She went on to say that it is the most important because it's the only one that makes everything possible: with out perfect vision, she won't be able to cook, or to read, or to talk to people. No one else except blind people have trouble with these things, she said. So we started asking her questions.....So, if you are missing a hand, and therefore some sense of touch, you can cook? Oh, yes, she said. It's hard, but you could do it. So people who are deaf can converse anywhere? Oh, yes, they can learn to read lips, or do sign language. They can overcome that loss.
And so it went, with her "proving" that no sense was as "important" as sight. No "handicap" was as bad.
Why and how, then, can people who are blind from birth live full and productive lives. "They probably can't," she said, " because they can't see." Nothing has made me so sad as hearing that sentiment. In the conversation, the question finally came up--
"Don't you think that acceptance plays a part in dealing with any handicap?"
Her reply: "Probably. But I am not accepting of much."
Ain't that the truth! She has not yet accepted my father's death, nearly 5 years ago. (I'm not happy about his death, and I miss him terribly, and talk to him often, but I have accepted it, and am able to live my life without him) In their relationship, he was the hunter/gatherer, and she was the gardener; even when it came to friendships. She does not do well in new situations, or in groups of strangers, no matter how big or small. My father, on the other hand, shone in a room full of strangers. I always marvelled, and still do, at his ability to befriend anyone, and put them at ease in any situation--even when afterwards he might say that he couldn't stand them. Somewhere in my mind, I always knew that he was the light who attracted people like moths, and Mom was the one who maintained, somehow. He was the icebreaker. Because I'd known this my whole life, I mistakenly assumed that she knew, too. When she moved here and insisted on meeting her own friends, rather than getting to know any of ours, I thought perhaps she was hoping to transform herself; to go outside her comfort zone, and reach out to others.
Instead, she expected others to reach out to her.
She would come home from Church, and tell me that the people were so unfriendly. No one had asked her if she was new in town. None of her new neighbors had come to her door and introduced themselves (except for the ones on this side of the house, and on that side, and the two across the street....). No one had invited her to come over (again, except for the ones across the street, and those ones there...). At the grocery store, no one came up to her and asked about the melons. When I pointed out that she had not engaged anyone else, either, she told me, time and again, that she shouldn't have to; that she should be approached. And still, she did not want to meet any of our friends' parents, or spend any time conversing with our friends. Why? She didn't want to have to explain where Dad is. That's what she's told me. As if, at 74, there is some kind of shame in being a widow, or it's not "normal."
And now, with failing sight, she sees little value in talking to others. She has difficulty reading, but won't just say, "Please use a bigger and bolder font when you email me." (something my godmother asked me to do once when responding to one of my 12-font emails.) "Please use a bold marker to write to me, instead of a pen." "Please use black ink on unlined white paper." She wants no one to accommodate for her, and she does not want to accommodate.
And, as always, there is little I can say that is "right." When I last told her that she should do something other than sit by herself, she told me that I expect too much. I expect too much that my perfectly healthy, yet somewhat vision-impaired, only 74-year-old mother should live her life, instead of sitting around waiting to die?? Yes, she said.
And so, I take her to the grocery store, and do it wrong. We take her to Church each week, but she feels isolated there. I take her to doctor appointments, and she complains that I am not keeping track of the mileage. She thanks me now, and tells me she appreciates all that I do, but I still am wincing from the gentleman who asked how my grandmother is, and was stunned to learn she is my mother. (I tried to believe it was because I looked young, but I know I don't look that young!)
The other day, she told me she keeps praying for courage and strength, and doesn't understand why God won't give it to her, and keeps making this so hard; and that she'd read that one cannot pay for their sins by suffering here on earth. I asked her, once again, what makes this "suffering." She can still listen--to the books on tape that the Association for the Blind sends her, or to books on tape we could get her from the Library; she can still talk with the boys, on the phone with her children and far-off friends and relatives. She can still live, and that, perhaps, God would like her to rejoice in the things she could still do. And she responded that she does, all the time, think about all the things she could do, at one time, but can't do now. I could only bite my tongue and grieve silently.
After all, I had already told her, when you pray for strength and courage, what you get are challenges to make yourself stronger and face your fears. Prayers of Thanksgiving are so much more effective.
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