My mother’s handwriting was not beautiful, but practical, readable, always the same. It showed up on birthday cards and recipes, and in mundane places around the house, her life in small, ink-scrawled imprints. I took it for granted – until the day I realized it was gone forever. She had been fighting lung cancer for over a year, but the punishing chemotherapy that was designed to attack the disease had been busily robbing her of almost every other function until she had become a complete invalid.
As the shock of her disability set in, I realized that the demands of her care had become acute. Gone were the days of incremental changes, and the plodding decisions about how much of my parents’ lives needed my attention, then intervention, and finally, just plain old dogged control. We were at the last stage now, and nobody liked it – not me, not Mom, and not Dad. But here we were.
As I remember those days, I feel again a tightening in my chest, as though my whole being is bracing for a storm whose ferocity and duration I cannot predict. How do you tell your parents that you – or worse, some stranger – will now be in control of their lives in intimate and invasive ways? It’s called role reversal, an awkward dance into the unnatural. But I wasn’t the only one in this unwelcome circumstance. Often, I would meet an old friend somewhere and we would start with the usual pleasantries. Then I would ask, “How’s your family?” and a haggard expression would creep across my friend’s brow as a long sigh breathed the words, “Well, I’m having to take care of my mother.”
It isn’t just that we are all selfish people who value our independence. It’s that we do not know how to do this. Everyone is off-balance, angry and tired. And deeply sad. My father-in-law, who is now in his late eighties, once said, “We do not grow old gradually. We grow old suddenly – in stages.” That was true for my parents. My dad made all kinds of preparations for old age – mostly financial – but while he mused about maybe moving to an assisted living facility or signing up for long-term care insurance, he seemed to think that all those decisions still lay out in the murky future. Then a “suddenly” hit and everybody scrambled to find unfamiliar roles. It was a messy, demanding season.
I learned a long time ago, though, that God is not threatened by “suddenlies.” I don’t claim to know the mind of God, but I wonder if He sort of likes the “suddenlies” because He hears from us more often through prayer. I say “prayer” though it often seemed like a panicked scream for help. I found out He answers those too, and in all kinds of ways: family members and friends – of course – but also strangers, little kids, health-care professionals, or the beauty of a sunset. An “ever present help in time of need”, His kindness showed up often in a song. One day as I was croaking out a complaint while hunched over the steering wheel of my car, an old song erupted from my memory as if someone had just turned on the radio. I had not heard it in years – something about “if you never had a problem, you wouldn’t know that God could solve them.” It sang into my head letting me know that God saw me.
Songs Before Sunset is not a how-to book. It’s about struggle, discovery, forgiveness, trust, and yes, even joy. I learned much about my parents in those last painful days. I mined treasures in dark, rocky places – treasures I will always cherish. They sometimes chafed at my “intrusion” into their lives, but more often, they thanked me for being there. It was sometimes awkward to know how to reply, but often I smiled and responded with, “Well, it’s my turn.” That seemed to put everything in perspective.
-by Crystal L. Chapman
*Songs Before Sunset: The Hidden Treasure of My Parents’ Last Days is available for pre-order at BarnesandNoble.com. Request it in-store after May 5.
Meet Crystal L. Chapman, author of Songs Before Sunset at her upcoming book signing:
Barnes and Noble Booksellers, 1680 Campbell Lane, Bowling Green, May 30, 1pm-3:30pm.
Here’s what local readers are saying about Songs Before Sunset:
“Songs Before Sunset resonated with me as one who took care of her own mother in her last years. You will see strength and perseverance, exhaustion, and strength again.”
–Kristin Bridgman, author, Walking Mom Home
“Songs… met me in my grief. Its gentle but piercing, emotionally honest writing captures the sacred in the everyday. I found lasting truth to savor.”
–Bridget Kehrt-Groce, Executive Director, Christian Family Radio, 90.7, 91.7 & 89.3 fm
“This will be on our list of recommended books for those in a caregiving role, and we will definitely be sharing bits and pieces of Songs Before Sunset with our clients.”
–Sarah Light, LCSW Mental Health Therapist – Owner, CEO & Clinical Supervisor of Lighthouse Counselling, LLC
“Crystal’s artistic writing paints a story of love and loss, using the scriptures and hymns that brought grace and peace during a difficult season.”
–Julia R. Cooper, author, The Painting Box
“Songs… provides a beautiful perspective of how to find joy and comfort in everyday moments with aging loved ones – a reminder that anyone can be a lighthouse in a storm.”
–Lindsey Sila, CSW Hospice Social Worker/Bereavement Coordinator, and Lighthouse Counseling Mental Health Therapist
Be the first to comment