It has been three weeks since Mom passed away. It has been three weeks of trying to find my footing, with a lot of slippery slopes making it tricky to find that footing.
As Mom’s illness took such a sudden turn the second week of January, my siblings and I were able to be at her side caring for her until the end. At the same time, we had eyes on Dad, who was experiencing his own uptick in care needs. From a gash on his leg, to an infection in that leg, to a bout with Covid, to a near-fire on the stove, Dad was slipping as Mom was dying.
I remember wondering during that time, “Is there something called co-deterioration?” Likely, Dad’s decline was due to a combination of factors from the obvious (Mom was dying), to a heightened awareness of his condition since we were essentially living in Mom and Dad’s space, to simply aging. Dad is 78, and has been acutely aware of his mortality for years. He has been remarkably accepting of all that comes with aging and with being skilled at articulating awareness of his own deterioration. No matter the cause, we knew that upon Mom’s death, Dad needed more care than what we would be able to provide.
Two days after the funeral… as heartless as this sounds… we brought Dad to two assisted living facilities to see what he thought. He liked both, released the resistance he had expressed building up to the search for a different home, and chose the facility that he preferred. It was nothing short of a miracle, given that he was resistant to the idea whenever we mentioned it the two weeks before (clearly – there was quite a bit going on during that time); it was a miracle that the facility had an opening; and it was a miracle that we were able to move Dad in within days of seeing the place for the first time. Oh, and it’s a brand new, beautiful facility, with newly opened doors as of December 1, 2023. We can’t thank the people of Birkwood Village enough for their compassion and care for Dad.
In addition to Mom’s death and placing Dad in assisted living, we are faced with the sale of the Corner Tap, Mom and Dad’s business of 40 years, and the sale of the building which houses both the Corner Tap and their home above. This all involves major cleaning, as well as the sorting, distribution, and release of years worth of memories and mementos. This past weekend, we were able to begin the process. It was and will be arduous, fulfilling, nostalgic, and cathartic.
The Corner Tap, West Point, IA
I was able to return to work this past week which has been both rewarding and challenging. The rewards come in re-establishing routine (I’m always a sucker for routine!), being back in the trenches with amazing coworkers, and in the continued support from so many. The challenges come with the daily drive to school when I fight back the tears in an effort to be composed when I arrive at school, in the feeling that I haven’t yet had a real release for the grief that I’m experiencing, and in the struggle and strife that comes with the education world.
What I know above all else is that the blessings far outweigh the struggles in this whole experience. I have been blessed with:
- amazing siblings: Katie, Jenny, and Ross, I love you beyond measure
- outpouring of support from the Corner Tap family, the West Point community, friends, family, and coworkers – it is absolutely humbling
- awful January weather that led to school closings which eliminated the need for me to take additional missed days from work
- Bill and the boys who spend so much time and energy comforting me as they are dealing with their own grief
- hearing my name mentioned in an episode from my favorite Literacy Talks podcast, on a day when I was really struggling – thank you, Stacy Hurst, Lindsay Kemeny, Donell Pons and the folks from Reading Horizons!
- Dad reassuring us that he is happy in his new home… and is still willing to maintain our Wednesday night “Date Night”
- a commitment to remaining both positive and authentic as result of Mom’s influence. Carpe diem, Mom, Carpe diem.
It is those blessings that will help this grieving girl find her footing.
Megan, You wrote like you were writing my experiences.
You gave a term to something I had also been seeing/feeling/wondering “Is there something called co-deterioration. Dad for the last year and a half had to have been putting up a good front for Mom and us. I think he is relenting and a bit, with the absence of the need to “be there for mom”. I think co-deterioration is an accurate term…
Blessings.
Re: “… major cleaning, as well as the sorting, distribution, and release of years worth of memories and mementos. This past weekend, we were able to begin the process. It was and will be arduous, fulfilling, nostalgic, and cathartic.”
“We aren’t the things we collect, acquire, read. We, are, for as long as we are here, only love. The things we loved. The people we loved. And these, I think these really do live on.” A.J. Fikry, THE STORIED LIFE OF A.J. FIKRY, by Gabrielle Zevin