John Called,

Mom and me - Compass, PA 1950 - John and Isaac playing with the typewriter - guess who was Mom's favorite?

When I got home from my morning walk on the boardwalk this morning, Bill told me that my brother John had called.  These days whenever I see that John has called, I fear for the worst.

John is taking care of Mom at his home in Greenville, South Carolina.  We moved her there from her home in Pennsylvania where she was living with other brother Isaac last October 17th, 2009.

Brother John and his wife and daughters at their home in Windsor PA 1974 - I took Mom to visit them

Two weeks ago Mom's body began shutting down.  Her potassium level was so low, the doctor was surprised that she was still alive.

We were given the option of sending Mom to the hospital to be hooked up to IV's and other life extending measures or to make her as comfortable as possible at her home with John and his wife and daughter.  Mom always made it clear to us that she did not want to be kept artificially alive in a hospital bed.

We decided for hospice care at home.  That hospice care began last Monday, for three days a week (Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday.)

The first day of hospice care Mom told the hospice care worker not to come back.  Not a good sign.

Caring for Mom at home is becoming very difficult.  My brother John doesn't get more than two hours of sleep at night.  He has to get up to take her to the bathroom or whatever other needs she has.

John didn't leave a message this morning. I called him back.  He told me that Mom had a "real bad night last night."  Without going into the details, I will only say that she isn't herself these days.  This is not her personality.  John thinks she has bi-polar.  Somedays she can be her old sweet self and other days (more frequently now) she has a totally different personality.  She is abusive, paranoid and unreasonable.  This is not our Mom.  No way, no how.

We always promised Mom that we would never put her in a nursing home.  I remember well what my cousin Jack told me about his Mom, my Mom's older sister.  Jack had made the same promise to his Mom but at the end he had no choice.  I'm afraid that is where we are with Mom now.

John has found a very nice hospice care center near his home.  In fact, John said it was so nice he would like to live there.  I can understand his feelings at this time of his life.  His wife has medical issues, he has a full-time job as a care pastor and, in addition to all of these responsibilities he is taking care of Mom.  John isn't getting any sleep at night.  Something has to change.  This cannot continue.

I will call him now and tell him that it is alright to put Mom in a place where she can get the care she needs and deserves.  I'm sure Isaac will concur with my decision.

My cousin Jack told me it would come to this.  That Jack, he has always been one step ahead of me.

Someday I'll write a blog posting about my few years old cousin Jack, who like me, brought himself up from the bootstraps and had a successful banking career.  We did pretty good for two dirt poor kids of of the Fifties from Downingtown, Pennsylvania.  Jack's advice has always been right on.  I hate to admit it, but he was right again.

My last visit with Mom (and brother John) June 2010 - we're in the beautiful park in downtown Greenville, SC - John forgot Mom's hat.  I loaned her mine.  That's a bathrobe I bought for her. She wears it all the time, even when she goes to the park.

Me and Mom

Me and my Mom, Betty Hadfield Tipton - Christmas 1979 - Philadelphia, PA

Perhaps my shortest blog posting ever.  No words are necessary.  Me and Mom, 1979.

I miss you Mom.

That Was The Week That Was

Remember that old TV show with David Frost, "That Was The Week That Was?"  That was my week last week.

I'm back home in Delaware from a both emotionally and physically draining week at my Mom's former home in Pennsylvania.

I left Delaware for my Mom's home in Pennsylvania on Wednesday, April 21st.

My brother Isaac, who now lives alone at our former family home, was leaving to visit our Mom who now lives with my other brother John and his wife Barbara in Greenville, South Carolina.  Isaac would be making the road trip with his son, Isaac, III.

While Isaac was gone, I would cat sit Molly, Mom's 16 year old, calico cat.  Molly used to be Mom's BF but since Mom has been gone Molly is now Isaac's BF.  Cats are that way; undying loyalty is a dog thing.

Also while Isaac was gone the plan was for me to clean out the "back bedroom" where my Mom stored her "things." To be more accurate, this was her main Hoarding Room.  Brother John was up earlier in the month.  He and Isaac cleaned out her bedroom and Pop's old bedroom.  They were on a roll but that roll stopped when they open the door to the Back Bedroom.  John took one look and closed the door and said "We'll let Ronnie take care of this."  Thanks John.  You always were so thoughtful.

So that's what I did the next day after Isaac and his son left in the early morning darkness for South Carolina.  I ventured into the Back Room.

It took me three days just to clear out enough of Mom's "things" to even see the green rug on the floor of the Back Room.

My sorting fell into three basic categories:

Trash
Goodwill
Keep

Sounds simple doesn't it?  Uh huh.  I had to go through EVERYTHING.  I literally had to sort through everything because I never knew what "treasures" I would find among the trash.  For instance, I found Mom's whole collection of those little funeral notices that you collect at the viewing of the deceased.  These were in among the paid receipts of medical bills, old Christmas cards and old newspaper clippings that my Mom collected of how the world was going to Hell in a hand basket if the Democrats remained in power, and old buttons (Mom liked to sew.)

I don't want to make this a mind numbing blog about cleaning out a lifetime of my Mom's 86 years on  this earth but this was a very emotionally and physically draining experience for me.

This blog will have to be continued.  I had a full blog posting earlier but I'm still learning how to use my new iMac and I lost half of my blog.  I am still drained by my experience last week in Pennsylvania so I will end this blog posting now with the caveat that I will pick up this thread tomorrow (hopefully.)

Right now it looks like a good time for a walk.  I'm still in a recovery mode from my experience last week and I have to get myself back on track.  See that neat room with the green rug above?  That took a lot out of me.

I remember something my Mother once told me when she realized she was old.  She was weeding six rows of corn after a full day of work at Pepperridge Farm and she realized that she was tired.  That's the way I feel now, tired.  I may have reached that milestone.  I am now officially old.

Going Home

The Road Home

I am bone tired. 

This morning I finished cleaning out my Mother's back bedroom.  This was the bedroom she used for storage.  I cleaned it out once before about five years ago.  I didn't think I would be cleaning it out again but since my Mother is not returning to her long time home from where she lives now with my brother John in South Carolina, my brothers and I thought it best to start cleaning out her house.

John and Isaac cleaned out her bedroom and our Pop's bedroom last week.  They started to cleanout the Back Bedroom (as my Mother always called it), but once John pryed the door open, he just didn't want to tackle that hoarder's dream room.

Mom's Home - don't be deceived by the neatness of the outside, inside is another story

Since Friday I've been cleaning out that room.  This morning I pushed myself to the limit to get the room done before my Isaac returns from visiting Mom in South Carolina.  He and his son (who is driving) should be here about 4 this afternoon.  It is an 11 hour drive from Greenville, South Carolina to Downingtown, PA.  Isaac and Ikey (my brother is a Jr. and his son is a III) left Greenville in the early morning hours.  I called him on my cell phone about 10 o'clock.  He and Ikey were in North Carolina.  I know he's anxious to get home.  I'm anxious to get to my home in Delaware.  Bill tells me his misses me (sure, I bet.)  No, he said he really does.

After taking another large black trash bag out the garage, I got in my Subaru and drove down to the post office.  I found a box throw blanket that my Mother never used so I thought I would mail it to her.  I put in some of her initialed stationery too because she has said she can't get out to buy any note paper to send people notes. 

My next stop after the post office was to Wegmans.  I had to stock up on their delicious whole wheat pita bread.  This is the kind of exclusive grocery sore products I don't see in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. I stuff that pita bread with my homemade chicken salad and I have the best lunch money can buy.   I also picked up some items for my upcoming family reunion on May 16th.  I'll leave those items here since I'm coming back in a few weeks.

Now it is time for my first nap since I've got here last Wednesday.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror this morning and I do not look pretty due to my lack of sleep.  I have one of those faces that when I'm tired, it shows.  In fact I look terrible when I am tired.

By the time I awaken around 4 this afternoon, Ike should be back.  Maybe we will go to Hosses' for dinner (I haven't had a good chargrilled hamburger and fries for weeks!) and discuss his trip.  He told me on the phone this morning that Mom tried to come back with him and Ikey.  We can't let her do that, she's too weak.  She would never survive the trip.  It's a shame she can't go back to her longtime home but she is being taken care of very well where she is not.  My brother John is the care pastor of his church so taking care of an elderly person, in this case his mother, is something for which he has almost thirty years of experience.

Time for my nap now.  When I get home I will have loads of pictures to share.  For now I'm showing my Mom's house and the road home for me tomorrow.  I can go either way out of my Mother's driveway.  Right of left, they both take me home. Then I tackle the real job, my hoard.

This road gets me home too