Everyone has my number and even those who have alienated me over the years eventually call when there is a problem. I gave up trying to understand this years ago and just accept it. However, some calls catch us off guard. Especially calls from the local authorities saying my mom needs help.
The relationship with my mother consists of years of angst. I was never good enough, I didn't do what she wanted me to do, and she was manipulative as well as deceitful causing havoc in our lives for no apparent reason. When she could no longer manipulate me she refused to acknowledge me as a daughter and, aside from the occasional wellness check which consisted of me standing outside of her yard as she told me she wanted nothing to do with me because I wouldn't pay her $1200 a month cell phone bill, I hadn't seen much of her in years. Yet a call from the local sheriff caused me leave work immediately to make the two hour trip back to my home town.
As I parked in front I was speechless. The home I grew up in could now qualify for a television show on hoarders. Mom is 86 and a child of the depression era. She lived with the fear that whatever she discarded could be needed someday. When I walked in, the little woman in front of me was a mere shadow of the vibrant woman I remembered as a child but she was still just as feisty arguing with adult protective services over leaving her home. The lady from ADP explained to her that she could go with me or go into a home.
Mom didn't recognize me at first but, when she did, she was still reluctant to go. I told her that she could come with me or she would become a ward of the state. The reason I was there is because I didn't want her going into a home. In spite of the angst that I have against my mother over past events, it melted away when she transformed into a frightened little old lady who began to sob and admit she was afraid. At that moment she was just a frightened little old woman who was too skinny. She had no clothes because the relative who had been caring for her threw most of them away so she merely picked up her handbag and turned to limp out to my car. Still as stubborn as ever, she refused help and got in without saying a word. The deputy who called me said she had been locked in a room and was denied food. Since they didn't know when she had last eaten, finding food was first on my agenda.
Mom's clothes were too big for her, her shoes were fuzzy house slippers, she was dirty, and she was almost skeletal. The officer said that the relative who was caring for her is in jail on charges of elderly abuse so the plan was to bring her to live with me. To be honest, I was as scared as she was so I focused on what needed to be done. First stop was food, second stop Walmart for clothes and personal items, and then home for a bath.
I have never ever wanted to be a nurse but suddenly I was thrust into the roll. As I drew the bath and mom began to remove her slacks I noticed an awful wound on her leg, toes that were broken, and scratches on her face and shoulders. I asked her how it happened and she became confused saying it was from the car. The wound was large, very deep, infected, and .... repugnant to look at with a foul odor ...so I bandaged it up and we were off to urgent care who immediately sent her directly to a hospital with a good wound care unit.
I spent the next couple of days sitting by her hospital bed watching an old woman who is much too thin with tubes coming from her arms as her frail chest revealed every rib with each breath. The police came, took pictures, and tried to learn what happened from an 86 year old woman who is scared and has a failing memory. Finally they found that the caregiver had kept my Mom tied to a chair with limited bathroom access and limited food. The wound is from the restraints that tied her to the chair.
I felt an overwhelming anger course through me but no tears came. Then later when my son called to check on me the tears began to flow and I couldn't stop. I couldn't control the tears so I went into the hall so she wouldn't see how emotional I was. The time had come to reach beyond the resentment of the past. Everything happens for a reason. This is the time to try to find peace so I began to search my heart for the good memories.
As a very young child driving home at night with mom, she would direct my view to the horizons and say, "See the lights? They look like jewels. Let's see how many jewels we can find." We would spend the time scouring the horizon looking for jewels. I remembered her love of animals and how she would rescue anything that needed help. These are the memories I would focus on.
Two days later mom and I were finally on our way back to my house. My mind was occupied because I was trying to decide what room to set her up in, what do I need to buy, how much money was left in my account, and how to fit her care into my routine.
Mom surprised me when her voice broke into my thoughts as she said "Remember looking for jewels Cheryl? You would come with me in the car at night and to keep you from getting frightened we would watch for the lights on the horizon. I would tell you they looked like jewels. Do you remember?"
"Yes mom. In fact, I was remembering that very thing as I sat in the hospital." I told her and smiled as I said, "This memory is what our family jewels consist of I guess. Not very valuable but it is beautiful to us." It was coincidence that mom found the same memory I did and I wonder if she was searching to find happier times just as I had done.
Everything happens for a reason. Life is like this multi-dimensional puzzle where one event triggers another, and then another. Sometimes I wonder if God arranged life like this because he likes puzzles. Anyway, the fact that mom and I found the same memory makes me feel that this is happening for a reason. This one memory won't erase the wrongs of the past but it does provide a fragile link to happier times and it is my hope that one shared memory is a good start that can help ease us into a better future.
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