Saturday, November 10, 2012

"Long Gone"

It's a Friday afternoon, and today is a day, long awaited, yet bittersweet. Ever since mother began her journey with dementia, we knew that this day would be inevitable; the selling of her home and property. It's been a year almost to the day, since we signed the contract with a realtor. Due to the economy and several issues with the property, that for some reason didn't seem appealing to buyers, we have had a bit of a struggle, finding the perfect buyer. Mother's care has and always will be a reality for years to come and I must add, it doesn't come without a cost. For anyone who owns a home and or property, after its all said and done, you must relinquish it all unless other arrangements are made, years in advance. Over twenty years ago, my dad had passed and mother met her soon to be husband Yates, a shy country bachelor, who stole the heart of not only mother, but the entire Gibson family. My mother soon sold her home and he left his, together, building a beautiful brick home situated on 90 plus acres of grassy farmland. Every inch of this house was decided by mother and Yates. If I was to be truthful, I would say, "by mother," choosing the very best of everything that was to make up her "dream home." I recall one instance where, the family began to notice that there was no toilet paper holder or towel rack in the hall bath. Upon inquiring as to why, my mother replied that she didn't want "holes" drilled in the wall to accommodate these necessities. Mother and Yates lived on their cattle farm for many years to come with mother, falling in love with every cow and calf that stepped foot on their property. Years went by and this place became everything to mother...until dementia came. As I have recorded in my earlier blogs, mother's home soon became a living nightmare to her and those she loved, with hallucinations of anything from young children, to cliff jumpers,to animals of all colors and entities. As my husband and I sit in the lawyers office, I anxiously await the arrival of this couple who has also, fell in love with mother's home and property. The door slowly opens, and in walks the two people who will soon take residence in mother's home. I began to have emotions that I hadn't thought of. Fighting back the tears, I shake hands with them and quickly observe this couple to be the perfect choice. My mind wonders back to all the days of my mother and her "dream home," knowing how sad she would be to know that we had sold it all, but in agreement that it was something that had to be done. I feel deep in my heart that she would be pleased with the couple who will take she and Yates' place on Martin Walker Road. Days have passed and I head up to the nursing home for one of my visits. I encounter her in the front room, which is unusual, but happy to know that I won't have far to walk to get her and bring her up. She begins to tell me that she has been down at some restaurant and didn't have to cook today. I talk to her about the usual, and have a quirky need to somehow, receive from her, even though in a demented state, her permission to have sold her beautiful home that meant everything in the world to her years prior. I began to say things like, "mother, do you remember living with me last year?" She says, "where do you live?" Then I move on to, "do you remember your farm where you and Yates lived?" She says, "seems like I do, I guess it's long gone now...just like everything else." I accept her words as some sort of a comfort, knowing that possibly she had settled it all, years before, just as you or I have done as we placed a cherished figurine or picture on a shelf, knowing that one day, more than likely, will be removed by someone who will toss it in a box without a second thought or place it on a yard sale table. May God bless each and everyone of you who is facing the same struggles as my family and I have. Only God has the answers to it all.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for sharing! I am looking for ways to smile (and there are many!) as we care for my wonderful father, who is 90! He is so kind. You may find some interest in my recent post on creating (with vintage hankies) and caring for the elderly.

    Sometimes a comforting thought is to remember who someone was, in younger, cheerier days! Blessings to you!