Mom lived for another nine months after that time. At this stage I thought I would have to put her in an institution but yet again we found the path to keep her at home.

Her home transitioned to give her the best care.  A hospital bed had been purchased and a lift rented.  I started to move furniture around the home I had lived in as a child and then stopped as I could not go further.  My head and heart were resistant to accepting this final phase and refused to help me do the work.  I went outside with a coffee and to sit with Mom in the sun, my heart heavy.

The team took charge, dragging furniture around and moving the bedroom to the living room.  Curtains were hung to give her a sense of privacy and we created a cozy corner by the fireplace with a sofa for visitors.  Her new bedroom now had a huge view of the garden, sky and hill and was flooded with light.

With the lift and chair we were able take Mom into the garden every day.    The stronger team members were able to push her big wheelchair all over town.  She loved the sense of motion and the movement of air on her face.

In the beginning the doctors ask when I was going to give up and did not believe we could offer the level of care Mom needed.  After a few months they could see we were doing the best job possible anywhere and became supporters of our approach.  I noticed I wrote “our approach.”  That was my care team and I could not have been prouder of all of them.  The Interior Health Palliative Care was also amazing.

Mom’s house was a place of calm and laughter and love. Every time I came to visit we had parties in the garden.  We celebrated Thanksgiving with the team and then Christmas.  We all wondered, ‘How long?’ We celebrated Mom’s 87th Birthday on Feb 25.  Another great party with cake and a gift for Mom or the team (not sure which) of a robotic cat for her lap.  Easter saw more silliness.

Eventually other health issues were starting to take their toll.  We were so careful and Mom avoided bed sores with an amazing mattress pads but we could not keep her arteries going without the “pump” of walking. Slowly her right foot started to die. The nurses bandaged and cared for it as best they could. Surprising to us this did not cause her much pain as the nerves had thankfully died first.

Mom loved to be touched so we massaged her daily and I found the gentlest young man to give her professional massages when her muscles were all gone and she was truly just skin and bone.  She would sink into his long professional massage strokes and almost started to purr louder then the robotic cat.  I was fortunate that Mom was truly the most patient patient.

adjective: patient

  1. able to accept or tolerate delays, problems, or suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious
  2. a person receiving or registered to receive medical treatment.