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Forgive Us, Mom

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The Tampa Tribune

Published: February 11, 2009

And I thought taking my 90-year-old mother's car keys away was hard! Now my brothers and I are facing the heartbreaking task of getting mom out of her home and into an assisted living facility (ALF). I hope my readers will bear with me as I relate some of the sadness in my life right now. Just as I was getting somewhat settled after the shock of my husband's death, the "busy-ness" of settling his estate, and the effort of putting my own life in order, I got a call saying my mother is in the hospital with a series of mini-strokes.

There's a little humor in the situation, albeit at my mom's expense. When told by the doctors that she can't live alone anymore, she said, "Well, I don't think I want to get married, and I certainly don't want all those little kids running around." She is so confused that she actually thought we were suggesting she find someone to marry so she wouldn't live alone. And I can only guess with the "little kids running around" comment, she thought she was still fertile.

She now understands that she's leaving her home, however, she thinks it's so the doctors can make her well and she'll soon be able to return home. We didn't tell her this, she came to her own conclusions. However, we didn't correct her. My pastor reminded the congregation this past Sunday of the Ten Commandments. Of course, one is that we shouldn't bear false witness, i.e., lie. He didn't mention lying by omission, but I'm pretty sure that's included too! Sinner am I.

I feel so sorry for mom. She dearly loves her modest little home and always says she wants to live in it until she dies. I dread the thought of mom in an ALF or nursing home. I dread it because it's against her wishes, but I also have a problem with the thought as I know what they're like. My husband Ron spent his last 18 months in a nursing home, and for several months off and on during the last five years of his life, he was either in the hospital or a nursing home. No matter where it was - Sarasota, Bradenton, Brandon, or Sun City Center - I missed only one day visiting him and tending to his needs. I became very familiar with the procedures and patients.

I'm not casting aspersions on nursing homes. They're very much needed, and I can say about the last one Ron was in - it was clean, cheerily decorated, and filled with compassionate nurses and nursing assistants. After visiting Ron one day, I went home and wrote of my experiences. I never intended to publish it, but now it seems more appropriate to do so, and I will in my next column.

Rosie Clifton is a freelance writer and author who lives in Sun City Center.

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