My Mother is Not In Decline.

My mom is one of four children. She was in the marching cadets as a teenager. She wanted to be a journalist, but was a teacher. She left college to raise her sister when their mother died, and completed school while balancing the responsibilities of caregiving first to her sister and then to us. She was a woman who met every obligation, and often put herself second to do so.?

My mom and dad have been married since 1969. They had four children and both of them worked full-time my entire life. The way I remember my childhood is mom left by 7:00 am to get to work. Dad made us breakfast and packed our lunches. Mom got home at about 5:30 pm and managed the evenings, while Dad got home after I was in bed most nights. I can’t imagine the emotional and mental stress it took my mother to navigate the carpool plans that got four children to Hebrew school, girl and boy scouts, piano lessons, karate, and sports practices, while also making sure homework was done, projects were completed, and tests were studied for. Her brain must have been like a Tetris Board, moving the pieces around constantly to make sure that we all were active, fed, and educated. She likes to say that she was a single mother, who happened to be married. I wouldn’t say that was fully accurate, but I understand her sentiment. Like in most families, the planning and navigating fell on the wife’s shoulders, which she did beautifully.

Since she retired in 2009 after teaching for 39 years, my mother built herself what seemed like a life full of hobbies. Book club, baking, Hadassah meetings, and lunches with friends. She and my father became much more active in their synagogue. They traveled all over the world, and would bring their children and grandchildren anywhere they went. They have built themselves a full, engaged and exciting third act that looks like what we all would strive for.

But for the last few years, we have been watching my mother change. About eighteen months ago, she dropped a knife while cutting brownies and it severed a tendon in her foot. That injury has been detrimental to her mental and physical health, as she is now in constant fear of falling or getting hurt again, so she refuses to do so many of the things that she used to.

And this is my mother, the same woman who did it all.

For so many, the reason they started working in aging was personal. They have experienced caregiving first-hand and are driven to develop products and services to make the aging and/or caregiving experience better. For me, I’ve always had compassion and empathy for these populations… but never experienced it for myself. And if I’m being totally honest, I have always feared the day that this work would transition from academic to personal.?

For years, I have been working with agencies and organizations that specifically talk about the dangers associated with falls. I am scared that if my mother does not build her core strength or continues to shuffle her feet rather than lift them, she is more likely to fall. And I am worried that if she does fall and gets hurt, this can lead to other health issues. And I am terrified that all of this can lead to her losing her independence and ultimately dying.?

And the worst part is that I know that I can’t force my mother to do anything… not just because she is the most stubborn person I have ever met, but because I have learned that it is not alright to take away her autonomy, even when she isn’t making the choices that my siblings and I think would benefit her. It is not our role to make decisions for my mother. It is our job to support her and love her as she makes her own decisions, even if they aren’t the choices we want her to make.

That is frustrating as hell.

It is so hard to know that she won’t use a cane despite the fact that she falls and can’t get herself up. It makes me crazed that she quit physical therapy and avoids exercise. I have seen her get angry, scared, and even cry when we have pushed her to get out of her comfort zone and that is devastating to me.?

So I harass her. I quote factoids, share stories, and nag her to use the cane, exercise daily, walk more and climb stairs.?

We are at an impasse.

We have come to that impasse not because she is refusing to do the things that she should, but rather because we are both coming at this from a place of fear. She is scared of seeming old or in decline if she uses a cane and working out is not her jam, and I am scared that she will decline faster because she refuses to use a cane and I am sad that because of this she won’t be able to do the things that are her jam.??

I don’t want my mom to be less healthy, to be less engaged, to be less than who she used to be, and it scares me that this is happening. As I seek a way to control my own fears and anxieties about what my mother is going through and may go through, I have been missing seeing all that my mother is living and thriving in. But even worse, I am letting my nagging make her feel bad and hurt our relationship.

Yes, her fear prevents her from seeking the help that would elevate her beyond the declines she is experiencing, but also, Yes, my fears are preventing me from seeing beyond those declines and it is also hurting her.

Two weeks ago, I was in Florida to lead a board retreat for a client, but it was canceled due to the impending storm. I ended up with a day that was totally free of all responsibilities, without children around, and no meetings scheduled, and I was with my parents. My mother invited me to go with her to her scheduled Hadassah meeting. And so the day before the hurricane hit, we went.

We drove over together, and here is what I saw as we walked in:

• I parked in the handicap space.?
• She insisted we walk in a certain direction to avoid having to walk in grass or step over a curb (tripping hazard).
• She left her cane in the car because she told me she didn’t need it.?
• She hunched over when she walked. She is losing core strength, and it becomes pronounced when she is tired.?
• Her feet dragged, which put her at risk to fall if they got caught on carpet, curbs, and grass.?
• I made sure to let her hold onto me walking up the ramp into the building.

But then the magic happened as soon as we entered the building. I saw other things.

• Women smiled as she approached.
• She was greeted by name.?
• She introduced me to everyone.?
• They discussed upcoming programs and plans.?
• Her eyes sparkled and she spoke animatedly with friends.?
• We ate lunch with one friend who is also a former teacher and discussed politics and minigolf and told funny stories.?
• Afterwards, as we sat through a lecture on the propositions that will be on Florida’s ballot, my mother took notes, participated in the conversation and talked the entire way home about legalizing marijuana in Florida.?
• At one point, the president of the group came over with a printed email from someone who had written in to compliment the articles my mother writes for their monthly newsletter.?
• They announced an upcoming CPR class that my mother brought to the group.?
• Then afterwards, that same president came over to discuss potential speakers for future meetings with my mother because “she always has such good ideas.”

My mother was not a woman in decline in this space. She was Eleanor, the smart former teacher and present-day educator, who is a leader, and has great ideas. No one there was harassing her to exercise or use a cane or talk to her doctor, and so she was not “in decline.” She was thriving.

I have sometimes wondered why my mother will cut a trip to see her grandchildren short to make sure she is home for a Hadassah meeting or a book club meeting. Now I understand. These are not hobbies that fill time for her. They are the places where she is who she wants to be, where she is truly seen as the robust, smart and engaging woman that she has always been.

I am not going to pretend that I am not scared or upset about my mother’s declining health, but that day has given me pause. Yes, I still wish my mother would admit what is happening to her body right now and take action to help herself, but I am not giving her enough credit for doing the things that are helping her emotionally, nor am I giving her credit for all the areas in which there is no decline at all. And that has left me wondering if perhaps I am the one who needs to shift my behaviors so that I avoid dwelling in my own fear of her decline and instead dive into celebrating the spectacular woman she continues to be.