Growing Old Growing Up

First of all, doing anything with dignity requires maintaining a positive attitude. I think that is what makes aging so difficult. I'm not sure if the aging process itself creates the pessimism that adorns so many elderly. Bogged down with aches and pains, remorse, regrets, failing memory, uncertainty about what problem may come next, not to mention that leaky bladder they've been trying to keep a secret. I have watched my own parents wade through the tricky marshes of growing old, and can tell you, it can get ugly. But inevitably the guy with the best attitude takes the prize.
At his best my father was the consummate party goer, at his worst he was a chain smoking alcoholic. We started warning him in his 60s about the havoc he was wreaking upon his body, and the consequences. He'd laugh, and babble on about life not being worth living if he couldn't do what he wanted. We'd smirk and tell him that he had never been lucky enough in life so far, to just up and die of his antics. NO, we told him he would live with failing lungs and dialysis, stewing in his own juices for years before he'd be allowed to check out! We were right. It sucked, and worse than we predicted. He suffered for 5 years, hardly able to walk, with cellulitis in both his legs from poor circulation caused by advanced emphysema. He suffered constantly with anemia, constipation, and congestive heart failure, before he turned 75. It was hard, but his sense of humor made it possible. His laughter and self deprecation, intrigued all his medical attendants. His sense of irony and hilarity carried him through it to the very end. In as much as it was insanely hard on him, his attitude made easier on us all.
And now, mother is showing the signs of dignity forfeiture! The antithesis of our Dad, she never drank, partied or smoked, opting for the more sedate life of kneelers, rosary beads, and baby showers. Likewise, she has cruised fairly smoothly through her 70s, with the one exception, she abhors physical exercise. This would not prove to be such a problem were it not for the expensive luxury diet she follows. As she ages she is less impressed with her cooking skills, that and the fact that she lets her fresh food rot before she remembers to cook it. A regular diet of real buttered salted vegetables and deep fried foods, have left her home gruel a bit lacking to say the least. Even I can't tolerate most of her home cooking these days. She spends an abundance of her paycheck on eating out, and take out foods. She has put on at least 20 pounds in the past year, although she will not confess this, not ever. She is starting to hobble noticeably as she walks, the poor arthritic knee can't take the extra burden. The higher fat diet has thrown her diabetes into a tailspin, the high sugars causing her to be irritable, foggy, and sometimes confused. She has prevailed without injury, her 2 car collisions, 3 fender benders, and her several episodes of being baffled about how to get the car to start. We're still baffled about that too. To our good fortune she has been able to laugh at herself and her antics up till now. As her behavior declines her attitude seems to follow.
So now here we are. With Dad, his declining health dictated how we should proceed to care for him. But with Mom, it's alien territory. We need to take her car keys away. But losing that independence will wreck her self esteem. We need to curtail her debilitating diet, even though she says she eats healthy. We need to institute an exercise program that she can enjoy, other than pushing her cart through the grocery store, or vacuuming to music. All of these things could be accomplished were we to place her into the local retirement center.
I even found one that was founded by the Sisters of Charity, and has chapel every morning, transportation to any place they want to go, weekend lunches to any restaurant in town, wii bowling, bunco Tuesdays, and movie nights. She wouldn't speak to me for 2 days after I got us an appointment to tour the place. She hates the small rooms, she hates giving up her stuff, the food wasn't that good, everybody there has a walker, no one will want to come visit her in a place like that....and on and on and on. The sense of humor we enjoyed through the worst of Dad's aging, is sadly missing at times with mother. Holy crap, it is one thousand times easier to just leave her alone.
Easier yes, better, no. Transition is hard for all of us, especially the old. I keep reminding myself of that. It's difficult, especially since she has called me since I started this post, to tell me she backed into her garage door, and doesn't know what to do. It doesn't help that she had my 9 year old in the back seat when it happened. It doesn't help having a brother and sister that live more than 4 hours away, unable to share the responsibility of "watching after" the destructive little gal. Inevitably it will be on my shoulders to decide what to do about her. How do I keep mother from throwing away her dignity? How do you convince the irrational to do anything? I suppose I should remind myself that I'm getting older too, and perhaps it is me that could use a little humor injection see it through. A little attitude adjustment that says look for the positive here...I've been wanting a new Van. "Hey mom, here, take my car up to the Burger Chef, will ya? We could use a bacon double cheese triple meat burger don't ya think? ...biggie everything!"