Some of you may have noticed that I have not posted here for many weeks. A few knew I had headed to Bangor, Maine, to spend time with my mother and help celebrate her 100th birthday. For three months we visited, making small talk in her antique-filled room or cruising the assisted living residence she calls home. If you have never experienced someone with memory loss, let me say that it forces one to practice patience like never before. I had to stop my own annoyance from mounting when every minute or two my mother asked for the date and time. My job, and that of her aides, was to distract her from what she doesn’t know and to focus on enjoying the here and now. That was easy with my mother who propels herself through life with a relentless cheerfulness, determined to deny the complicated emotions that rivet the rest of us. My mother loves to do crossword puzzles and would try to engage anyone who enters her room. She remembers the old stars and literary names and solved all of the Latin clues. She and I did the New York Times crossword and together we dissected the tricky clues in search of double entendres. One of her aides makes crossword a social activity, gathering a group of elderly women to solve the puzzles from a paperback book. Some days, I pulled out boxes of old photographs and described the people and scenes that her failed eyes could no longer see. We laughed as I read old diaries written when she was a young girl in Augusta and Portland, then looked up her old friends to see if any of them survived (none had). My mother’s 100th birthday celebration stretched over several days starting with a shared birthday cake in the assisted living dining room, then a small party put on by the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, and one arranged by a former students and teachers at Waterville High School. The major get-together for family and friends was held at Lucerne Inn, a place first settled by her ancestors in 1810. My mother talked endlessly about her birthday for the weeks leading up to it and thoroughly enjoyed each of the parties that honored her but when they were over, she forgot it all. I printed a large photo of the attendees and would name each of the people standing behind her on that day and she agreed that it was a ‘wonderful event,’ speaking from habit rather than actual memory. Throughout my visit, my mother always knew who I was, drawing on her still vivid old memories. She recognized my dear friend Lizzie and recalled our experiences together as teenagers 48 years ago. When not with my mother, I lived in Orrington, across the Penobscot river from Bangor. For the first time in 25 years, I was living alone. To stay busy, I volunteered with a solidarity project to purchase food from farmers and donate them to laid off workers and others who have fallen on hard times. I served as the liaison with the small farmers and helped to publicize a benefit concert by Noel Paul Stookey, of Peter, Paul and Mary. The long, unseasonably warm autumn allowed me to take long walks around Fields Pond or in City Forest. A couple of times I made it down to Acadia, to feel the flung spray and the blown spume and hear the seagulls cry (thank you, John Masefield). I also had a chance to research the local history of my ancestors, including Thomas and Martha Cowing, two children of Revolutionary War soldiers who settled nearby. My most precious time, however, was spent each day with my mother, days that washed over me, erasing any lingering grievance or guilt about my long absences roaming the world. I was thankful that I was able to take care of my mother, knowing that it healed a damaged part of me. When the snow started falling and in the chill set in, I hid my tears to say good bye. I knew my mother was in good hands, tended to by caring aides, but I could have easily stayed by her side.
As I drove south, I decided to give my mother a call. I knew immediately that she had forgotten that I had been there. She sounded surprised to hear my voice and acted like it had been a long time since she had heard from me. I told her I had just left Bangor after three months there and she said ‘oh,’ embarrassed by her loss of memory. Within seconds she had forgotten again and moved on to her favorite subject: when she would see me again.
33 Comments
Jacki
12/28/2017 07:24:10 am
Oh, Nancy, what an amazing tribute to your Mother. I have to say, I read it with tears in my eyes. You are both blessed to have each other and to share this journey, whether or not she recalls. May the New Year bring you both much joy and good health.
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Nancy
12/28/2017 07:36:07 am
Jacki, I feel lucky to have had that time with my mother and believe that on a subconscious level she felt the same way. I'm making plans to return next year, with the expectation that she will still be in my life. Happy New Year to you!
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gaz regan
12/28/2017 07:27:18 am
Your story brought tears to my eyes. Just beautiful. When we next meet, I'll tell you some stories about my mother. I was privileged to spend her last six weeks with her in 2001, and although I was sad to see her go, I treasure the times we laughed together during that six weeks
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Nancy
12/28/2017 07:38:23 am
Gaz,
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Roxana Santiago
12/28/2017 07:33:29 am
Greetings Nancy, what a beautiful tribute to your mother..
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Nancy
12/28/2017 07:41:15 am
Thanks, Roxy. Good to hear from you.
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Ramon Rodriguez
12/28/2017 07:33:44 am
A wonderful and thoughful piece. It certainly brings to mind many personal experiences as my mother and I deepen our relationship. The practice of patience and being present, as you say, has been an illuminating experience. Thank you.
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Nancy
12/28/2017 07:42:19 am
I'm glad you can still spend time with your mother -- life is fleeting, as you know, Ramon. Happy New Year.
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Octavia
12/28/2017 07:35:54 am
So sweet Nancy. Raw, real and heartfelt. Thanks for sharing your journey with us ♥️ Love you so much!
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Nancy
12/28/2017 07:43:46 am
Thanks, Octavia. Your devotion to your parents brings you much joy, too. Happy New Year! oxoxox
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Barbara
12/28/2017 08:11:24 am
Your journeys are so evolving but this one is touches the soul of a bonds that are true circle of life...
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Nancy
12/28/2017 09:54:21 am
Thanks, Barbara.
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Jean-Marie Simon
12/28/2017 09:38:41 am
Nancy: This is beautiful story, wonderfully wrought. Kudos to your mom: she may not remember the day of the week, but she remembers a lot of what counts, including you. You are a exemplary daughter to have taken three months to be with her. Merry Christmas.
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Nancy
12/28/2017 09:53:53 am
Thanks, Jean-Marie. The pleasure was mine. Merry Christmas to you, too!
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Wilma Garren
12/28/2017 10:02:33 am
Nancy, what a beautiful and moving story. I, too, was able to spend the last months of my mother's life by her side. It is, indeed, healing. But more importantly it was an honor to guide her into her transition. You are very blessed that she is still here for you to hold and talk to. I miss that greatly.
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Nancy
12/28/2017 10:34:33 am
Thanks for sharing your story, Wilma. It is true that no one should be alone after coming into this world or preparing to leave it.
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Gen Fleischman
12/28/2017 12:36:37 pm
A very touching telling of your love for your Mother. You have given her a gift that can never be measured as it will always linger in unexplained ways. It is a treasure for you also, to remember when she is no longer here. Thank you for being with your Mother and sharing your beautiful time together with us.
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Nancy
12/28/2017 06:43:14 pm
Thanks Gen. Watch out -- you may be in the next post!
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Chris
12/28/2017 12:40:45 pm
Your account of your time with your mother is exquisite. Thank you for sharing it. It brings back all sorts of memories of times with my mom.
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Nancy
12/28/2017 06:43:51 pm
Happy New Year to you, too, Chris!
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12/28/2017 02:46:17 pm
Oh Nancy, How wonderful this entry is. I love the pictures, love your descriptions, love that you let on that this was a healing experience for you. She is beautiful lady and you take after her! Happy new year to you!
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Nancy Peckenham
12/28/2017 06:44:30 pm
Thanks, Emily. Hope to see you and Will in 2018.
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Michele Ries
12/28/2017 07:19:05 pm
Beautiful Nancy.
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lori smith
12/29/2017 01:49:49 pm
You are wonderful with your mother. Be at peace and continue to wander, knowing that she is living blissfully in her own little world. I really enjoyed reading this!
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Nancy
12/29/2017 03:51:15 pm
Thanks for the encouragement, Lori.
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Mike Cavanaugh
12/29/2017 03:08:18 pm
Beautiful tribute and reminiscences of a life well lived. Good for you.. and glad to have a chance to see you when this started on Labor Day.
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Nancy
12/29/2017 03:50:38 pm
It was good to see you, too, Mike, after so many years (20?) I will try to look you up when I am in DC.
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Lynn
12/29/2017 06:12:09 pm
Nancy, beautiful times with your extraordinary mother are so well told. Seeing what it’s like to deal with the loss of your mother as she had been and your ability to keep loving her as if all was well is very touching. Thanks for sharing these days. Best, XxL
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Nancy
12/31/2017 07:45:13 am
Your mother was a great woman, too, Lynn, an inspiration for all.
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Janet
12/29/2017 07:23:47 pm
Nancy, what a moving piece. You are one of the lucky ones to have your mother in your life for so very long. I love that her favorite topic is when she will get to see you again. What a gift to you both that you are able to periodically spend such a lot of time together.
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Nancy
12/31/2017 07:45:52 am
Thanks, Janet and happy new year to you and David.
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Lue
12/30/2017 12:14:23 pm
A very beautiful account of your time with your Mother. I too read it with tears in my eyes. And even though her memory is failing she sounds like a very vibrant person still. Best wishes for 2018 and happy travels. 💥
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Nancy
12/31/2017 07:47:01 am
Lue, I know I'm lucky to still have my mother in my life. I plan to return to Maine next fall. Happy New Year!
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