The Unsinkable
I attended a writing workshop on Saturday and three of the seven members had essays and/or chapters they intend on turning into a book about giving care to an elderly family member. In discussing our work, others chimed in about their own experiences.
That did not surprise me, as many baby boomers are dealing with this issue. What I did learn was that anyone who’s given care to an elderly family member usually has something that reminds them of the helplessness of both their loved one and themselves – and the memories aren’t good ones.
For a couple of women, it was a talking clock that signaled their loved ones were up. For others, it was bells on a walker or bells their loved ones could ring when they needed help.
During the three days my mother was here with us, we had to have her in our downstairs family room for several reasons. That’s where the satellite television is, where she could watch her beloved CNN and it is also the only level in the house where we could get her in a wheelchair – and she was also right next to the restroom.
However, Mom and I both didn’t trust that she was strong enough to even take the 4-5 steps to the restroom without falling, so I needed something as a signal. I searched high and low for a small bell or even something she could bang and the only thing I could come up with was a replica of the bell on the ship Titanic that she had once given me as a Christmas gift to go with the lighthouse/ocean ship décor of our master bedroom.
The bell was heavy, but Mom said it would be ok and during those three nights, the ding-dong awoke me several times as a signal Mom needed to get up.
Sometime after Mom passed, my husband picked up the bell while moving it out of the family room floor near the chair where Mom sat helpless for those three days.
Ding-dong.
He rang it as a joke.
“I don’t think I ever want to see that thing again,” I told him. The look on my face told him it wasn’t funny and the look on his face told me that he too realized the irony in the word “Titanic” etched into the brass.
He put it away so I don’t have to look at it – at least for awhile.
That did not surprise me, as many baby boomers are dealing with this issue. What I did learn was that anyone who’s given care to an elderly family member usually has something that reminds them of the helplessness of both their loved one and themselves – and the memories aren’t good ones.
For a couple of women, it was a talking clock that signaled their loved ones were up. For others, it was bells on a walker or bells their loved ones could ring when they needed help.
During the three days my mother was here with us, we had to have her in our downstairs family room for several reasons. That’s where the satellite television is, where she could watch her beloved CNN and it is also the only level in the house where we could get her in a wheelchair – and she was also right next to the restroom.
However, Mom and I both didn’t trust that she was strong enough to even take the 4-5 steps to the restroom without falling, so I needed something as a signal. I searched high and low for a small bell or even something she could bang and the only thing I could come up with was a replica of the bell on the ship Titanic that she had once given me as a Christmas gift to go with the lighthouse/ocean ship décor of our master bedroom.
The bell was heavy, but Mom said it would be ok and during those three nights, the ding-dong awoke me several times as a signal Mom needed to get up.
Sometime after Mom passed, my husband picked up the bell while moving it out of the family room floor near the chair where Mom sat helpless for those three days.
Ding-dong.
He rang it as a joke.
“I don’t think I ever want to see that thing again,” I told him. The look on my face told him it wasn’t funny and the look on his face told me that he too realized the irony in the word “Titanic” etched into the brass.
He put it away so I don’t have to look at it – at least for awhile.
posted by Kerri Fivecoat-Campbell at 6:20 AM
1 Comments:
Kerri, I also had a bell that my sister gave me from her trip to Grease. When my Mother moved in and was unable to get up without help I tied the bell to her bedside. She rang that bell by shaking the bedrail. After she was gone I could almost hear the ringing at night and got up several times to check. I too put the bell away on a shelf. Patsy Colter
Post a Comment
<< Home