This weekend my brother came up from Santa Monica and stayed with us. My Mom turned 96 on Monday. We decided that just in case she wasn’t feeling well Monday we would schedule two visits with her. One Saturday and one Monday.
My brother arrived for dinner around 6:00 PM Friday evening as my husband was ready to fire up the grill. It was a simple meal. Steaks and corn for my brother and husband, and salmon and corn for my daughter and I. We chatted for a bit as I recounted in my prior post. The next day my brother went for a run and to pick up my Mom for visit number one. Friday I had emailed the director of Mom’s community to remind him of the visit and how it would be in two parts. My brother had checked in with him a month or so ago to figure out what the protocol would be and I followed up just to make sure we were all on the same page. Not hearing any issues, off to Mom’s my brother went.
The drive is 35-45 minutes depending on traffic. These days traffic tends to be light and my brother got to Mom’s place around 11:45 AM after first grabbing a sandwich. The entrance to Mom’s community is through two sets of sliding glass doors. When my brother arrived he went through the first set but found the second set locked. This was how her facility was limiting access. At first the receptionist would not let him in. After much back and forth they finally did. The person advised my brother that the Director of the facility would not let him go to my Mom’s residence. This seemed odd due to our communications. After much back and forth, the director finally came out and told my brother that he could not visit. My brother, in a firm manner, advised the director that in fact not only had we discussed this visit in prior email, but that his sister, yours truly, had communicated to him the prior day with no response. The director advised that things had changed and the policy had changed but was unable to present the changed policy in writing. He finally relented and let my brother in after checking his temperature.
In Mom’s apartment my brother did some computer upgrades making it easier for Mom to access services online and do online conferencing with all of us. They had lunch together in the apartment before heading out to come over to my house. Once here we escort Mom to our backyard. We had decided in advance we would not wear masks as we all have been pretty careful. As we sit down my email beeps. I finally have the result from my Covid test of 10 days prior. Negative! A welcome relief as I don’t know what we would have done if I was positive except send Mom back with my brother and all respectively isolate.
After receiving the test result and before Mom sits down, I give her a hug. I haven’t hugged her since I last saw her in late February. I have now physically touched two people beyond the two I live with, and it feels strangely decadent. But all are family. All are immediate family. I’m giddy just having my Mom and brother with me in these strange times. They are both happy, albeit stir crazy like all of us, and more importantly, healthy.
It is a beautiful day and we spend it just being in each other’s presence. My husband grills a chicken, I steam some green beans and make a salad. This isn’t even the official birthday yet, but it is a celebration just the same. We are together.
At 96, my Mom is finally slowing down. Her vision is very poor with macular degeneration and glaucoma. She has become quite hunched over in the last couple of years. Perpetually staring at the ground due to osteoporosis. She is walking with a cane and my brother and I point out every minor trip hazard around us. She has outlived most of her friends, but her two younger sisters, at 94 and 92 are still with us. The youngest has the most medical issues including COPD. I worry about all of them getting this virus. The world is not kind to the elderly and this year has been particularly bad. But I push all that aside, for today, we are together.
After dinner I bring out brownies that I’ve made for us to enjoy. They are gluten free for my daughter with celiac, but you wouldn’t know it from eating them. My husband and brother enjoy wine with Mom and I offer to drive her back to her home so my brother can continue his visit and not have to make another drive today. Mom agrees, and shortly after 7:00 PM we depart.
The sun is setting and it is a balmy summer night. Living in the East Bay area we don’t get the fog that rolls into San Francisco or Marin County at this time of year. It is there though so that we also don’t hit the 90 degree mark. Our natural air conditioning is delivering the perfect weather.
I advise Mom that we should put on our masks before pulling into the parking lot of her residence, so as not to incur the wrath of the director. The facility looks like the hospital front line with multiple signs posted directing staff through one door and non-staff through another. The second set of doors are locked, and Mom’s hands are full with supplies I have given her to return home with. I walk in behind her and bang on the second set of glass doors. From behind her desk the receptionist pushes a button and my Mom goes in as I retreat. I’ll bring her back again on Monday.
Sunday is relatively uneventful. My brother goes running, I go walking and together we meet up for coffee and walk home. Beers are with my husband in the evening as I don’t drink, but the morning is for coffee. My realm. It looks to be another lovely day and once home we all take our respective showers. The day is lazy with reading and chores and continued hope for a vacation in August. My brother helps my Mom get online for mass. Mom gives my brother the address of her hair dresser where he will pick her up at noon. The salons have closed again but my Mom has known her hair stylist for over 30 years and she has offered to do her hair at her house. While we have argued with her not to go out, she is insistent. The hair stylist lives alone and Mom won’t be around anyone else, besides the cab driver who will pick her up to take her, so we relent.
Dinner that night is hamburger. My brother is having more red meat in two days than he has had in months, and is quite enjoying it. In the evening we all retreat to our respective corners to read before going to bed. Tomorrow is the big birthday.
Monday comes, cooler than the weekend. I currently have Mondays off as my work has asked for those who aren’t as busy to lessen their hours to save money. I don’t mind lesser hours if it allows me more time with my family. My husband on the other hand is about to max out his PTO so has to start taking days. He knows this visit with my Mom is a big deal for us so he has taken the day off as well. My brother brings my Mom back to our house around 1:00 PM. A little earlier today. It isn’t as exciting as Saturday and I’m distracted as I’ve offered to help with a small task at work which I was hoping to be done by now but isn’t. We settle Mom in. We give her her cards. My niece who is seven, has done a watercolor with poppies and a bird which is quite good. We are all a bit awestruck at her talent at such a young age. I think my daughter is a little put out that my niece who isn’t with us and four years her junior is getting this attention. But she doesn’t say anything. It is one of those teachable moments where hopefully she sees why we always encourage her to make cards rather than buy them. They really do have more meaning when you get a home made card from a child as an adult. You don’t realize that as a kid though. My daughter knows that she is here though and relishes being around all of the activity. She loves her cousins and is looking forward to our vacation in a couple of weeks, we hope, assuming there are not further closures.
Mom sits back with a satisfied smile. My husband and brother start talking shop and she nods off. I feel self conscious that so much of our discussion is around her and not about her, but she is obviously happy. She later comments on how nice it is to be out and with family. The day goes very similar to Saturday, but with a different menu. Tonight we have flank steak and grilled zucchini. The evening ends singing “Happy Birthday” and Mom blowing out a candle on her birthday cupcake. She is happy and once again I offer to drive her home.
My brother tells us he has received an update from Mom’s residence who sends out notices these days when there is news about Covid. Four workers have contracted the virus and to date, none of the residence have, but today the notice goes out that a resident has contracted it. They are currently isolating in their apartment. They think they picked it up at a doctor’s appoint. I wonder to myself if perhaps it was elsewhere.
Mom says her good byes. Even my husband, who is trying to be extra cautious around my Mom gives her a light hug. My daughter does as well. I wonder to myself when and if we will be able to do this again. I try to brush the thought aside. We put her things in the car and say goodbye.
While driving back I feel like this is the last time I will see her. If school manages to be in person before the end of the calendar year, I wonder if we will be able to get together for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I remind my Mom as we are driving back that now that a resident has it she has to be extra cautious. They are going to require her to isolate for two weeks since she has been outside the facility. That is the current rule. We had the two gatherings to make the most of what would require her to quarantine. She says she will and I remind her that includes hair appointments. She says she will, but I wonder.
I am quiet even though I feel I’m missing an opportunity to discuss something with my Mom. She has always been quite the go getter, but at 96 she has slowed considerably. She still can walk, thank goodness, but her appetite is fading. Her language seems to be faltering slightly as well. She stutters for words like her mouth can’t keep up with her mind. I know it is just aging, but it is hard to watch. I constantly worry that she will get this virus. I don’t want to lose her but I know I don’t have a lot of time with her left. I want to be able to hold her hand if possible when it is her time to go. I worry if she gets this virus she will be in pain and alone. The loneliness scares me the most.
We make it back to her residence with our masks on. I come around to get her and her things out of her car. She reaches to give me a small hug even though we have said we won’t do this at the facility. I actually step back. I remind her we have to be careful now. I go in through the first set of doors and give her her things. I knock loudly on the second set of doors and in she goes, while I go back to my car. In my car I take off my mask. When will I be here again I wonder, as I pull away.
