THINGS MY 92 YEAR-OLD MOTHER IS TEACHING ME

An Article by Geneva Cobb Iijima

Mothers are our first teachers. From the time we are born we’re learning from them—how to talk, walk, be polite, pray, cook and care for ourselves. My mother can no longer teach me any of those things. At 92 she has dementia infarct, caused by mini-strokes. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember that I’m her daughter, and not a sister. Who would have thought she would still be teaching me? But she does—in ways I never expected.

Enjoy the Simple Things

This morning squirrels were playing in my mother’s yard while we ate breakfast. She laughed and laughed. Even while I washed dishes, she kept calling me to come look at the antics of the squirrels.

On our walk, we noticed a yellow primrose bud peeking up through the leaves. We paused to enjoy this hint of spring to come.

Then tonight I fed her mashed sweet potato with coconut butter and pudding made with blended waldorf salad. She pronounced it the best meal ever.

No, she can’t do many things, but she can enjoy simple pleasures—the squirrels’ play, a walk in fresh air, flavor of food, and a hug that says, “I love you.” Along with her, I too, am learning to enjoy the simple things.

Get to Know God Better Now

My mother is simple in her faith too. In her now croaky voice she sings the hymns her mother sang and finds comfort in them. She stumbles through her Bible reading each day and finds delight in it. “I didn’t know that,” she’ll say about something she’s forgotten. And accepts the Bible literally. Once we read about giving to those in need. She went immediately to the closet, took out her only pair of walking shoes and wanted to give them away.

Sometimes I will read through a familiar passage without grasping the meaning. As I’ve watched my mother, I’ve learned a secret. If I want to get to know God better now, I’ll sense His presence better when I’m her age. and she wants to go to church every Sunday, though she can’t hear a thing. Her simple faith and commitment didn’t just happen. She grew close to God by being faithful through the years. I know because I can feel His presence when I hear her pray. As I draw near to God now, I know I can trust Him to go the distance with me too.

God Will Supply

Over the years, my mom always trusted God to take care of her needs. But I didn’t know how God could do that when my dad’s illness exhausted my parents’ savings. Their house was all she had. And she did go through some difficult times as her health diminished. But God provided through MedicAid.

Knowing she didn’t want to live alone and that I couldn’t care for her full time, I moved her into an assisted living facility, and I put her home up for sale. Her dementia increased rapidly, and she was soon moved to the Alzheimer’s unit. “If God loves me why does He have me in a place like this?” she asked.

Her house hadn’t sold, so I began praying about hiring a caregiver and moving her home. My mother’s caseworker warned me that a live-in caregiver was almost impossible to find, but again God provided. After a year, that first caregiver wanted to return to school. I panicked, but again God provided—this time a couple moved in to care for her. Her current caregivers love and care for her as much as I would, if I were able.

God has supplied housing in her own home, sustenance through MedicAid and loving care. I know I can depend on Him for my needs, as well.

Pay Attention To Details

I’m a right-brained person. I enjoy reading, writing and art—but please don’t ask me to balance the checkbook or pay attention to other details. God must have known I’d never give my left brain proper exercise unless He forced it on me.

Now I have to care for the details of my mother’s financial affairs—well, I still can’t balance her checkbook to the penny. However, I’ve overdrawn her account only once.

At our house my family used to joke that everyone had to search for my glasses before we could go anywhere. After my mother lost two bottom dentures and a couple of hearing aids, I decided I had better pay attention to where I put things. Now, when I take my glasses off, I (usually, that is) take a mental picture of where I put them. Then I know where they are the next time.

Slow Down

About the time I reached my 60’s, I noticed that many of my friends were slowing down. I couldn’t understand that, because I thought I needed to speed up. Why? I knew I had fewer years to do the things I wanted to do. Bad mistake! I didn’t stop to think about the fact that my frantic hurry could actually shorten my life and diminish my enjoyment of the time I did have. It took my mother to teach me to slow down.

She loves to go for walks around her property, but she can only walk very slowly. I must walk at her pace. I’ve learned to notice the little flower, the interesting cloud formations, to enjoy a deep breath of cool air. I’ve learned to embrace life—one day, one hour, even one moment at a time. When I think of it, that’s all I have, one moment at a time.

Be Humble

One of the aspects of dementia infarct is that often the person can’t differentiate between what is appropriate to say and what isn’t. For my Mother this is compounded by the fact that she can’t hear well and forgets that others can. I gulped with embarrassment when she spoke up loud and clear at her church, “I wish he’d talk louder. I can’t hear a thing.”

Her church is small, and all the people understand Mama’s problems. Occasionally, however, I take her to the larger church I attend. Once, three-quarters of the way through the service, she announced for all to hear, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” I would have been glad to go anywhere at that point, just to get out of the sanctuary. But when I started to get up, she wouldn’t move. “No. Not now,” she said. She didn’t want to interrupt the service. We rarely get through a morning service without her coming out with something unexpected.

I could stop taking her to church, but she loves to go. So, I laugh and take the opportunity to put on the garment of humility.

Deal With My Flaws Now

My grandmother was afraid to be alone at night, and my mother carried that fear for most of her life. “Are you staying the night?” she’ll ask when I care for her.

“No,” I tell her.

“Oh, please stay the night,” she begs. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Regardless how much I assure her that the caregivers are returning at 5:00 p.m. she’s likely to be anxious the remainder of the day. Sometimes, she can’t even enjoy the time we have together, for worrying that she’ll be left alone for the night.

My experience with my mother has taught me that undesirable traits carry into old age and often to the next generation. I’m praying that the Lord help me deal with pockets of anxiety and other undesirable characteristics in my own life now.

Learn To Trust

Since I can’t be with my mother all the time, I have to trust those who can. Above all, I must trust her into God’s care. Otherwise, I’ll make myself ill from worry.

Recently, it was necessary for me to travel to Japan for two weeks. I couldn’t have done that a year ago, but her situation is stable right now, so I made plans. The first two days I was gone, however, she fell twice. She suffered a hair line fracture to her pelvic bone. Suddenly, her needs skyrocketed. The demands on the caregivers were almost beyond their ability to cope. I was on the phone with them several times and I was constantly in prayer. Amazingly, the crisis passed. She was able to walk around the living room within a few days. God proved Himself faithful, as He always does.

By doing the best I can for my mother and then trusting God to do what I can’t, I am able to continue with my daily life. And I find I am able to trust Him in other ways I might have struggled with otherwise.

When I give my mother’s caregivers a day off, I used to tell my friends, “I have to care for my Mother.” I’m sure it sounded like I dreaded the thought. I don’t say that anymore, because I look forward to our days together. Now, I say cheerily, “I’m caring for my mother today.” And I secretly wonder what new lesson she will teach me.

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