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Once More, We Fade
May. 21st, 2014 12:22 pmMy beloved Aunt Jackie, the last of her generation on either side of my family, has been in the hospital for reasons unknown to me at this time. What I do know of her situation, I gleaned from an email which my cousin, her daughter, sent to one of my sisters who, in turn, sent it on to me.
It sounded like there might have been some sort of catastrophic event, like a fall, which resulted in her hospitalization and that her recovery has been complicated by the progression of her Alzheimer's. As has been typical of that family over the years, they've all rallied around the one in need and have organized a 24/7 presence at their mother's bedside.
All of them lead busy, work- and family-oriented lives, but they're very organized, very focused, very determined. Sometimes I'm not sure if they're actually a family or an Army combat team pretending to be one. But I do know that they helped my sisters and me, immeasurably, over the months of my father's gradual decline and eventual passing.
In fact, after the funeral, it was at my cousin's that we finished off the remaining loose ends before going our separate ways. Afterwards, I wrote an LJ entry called "Fading into Sepia" about that moment of parting which came as we pushed our chairs back from around her kitchen table. (I'd also add that, ironically enough, I'm writing this on what would have been my father's 99th birthday.)
All of which leads me to say, somewhat ruefully, that when anyone needs a hand, they are always there to offer it. And we are always there to take them up on it.
Sadly, it would seem that in the years since my father's passing not much has changed in that regard. Because, as they stand poised to confront the loss of their mother, matriarch, and lifelong friend, my sisters and I stand well back in that physical distance by which we've attempted to escape, not the hometown which ostensibly made us what we are, but the selves which we were, in any case, destined to become...
LPK
LiveJournal
5.21.2014
It sounded like there might have been some sort of catastrophic event, like a fall, which resulted in her hospitalization and that her recovery has been complicated by the progression of her Alzheimer's. As has been typical of that family over the years, they've all rallied around the one in need and have organized a 24/7 presence at their mother's bedside.
All of them lead busy, work- and family-oriented lives, but they're very organized, very focused, very determined. Sometimes I'm not sure if they're actually a family or an Army combat team pretending to be one. But I do know that they helped my sisters and me, immeasurably, over the months of my father's gradual decline and eventual passing.
In fact, after the funeral, it was at my cousin's that we finished off the remaining loose ends before going our separate ways. Afterwards, I wrote an LJ entry called "Fading into Sepia" about that moment of parting which came as we pushed our chairs back from around her kitchen table. (I'd also add that, ironically enough, I'm writing this on what would have been my father's 99th birthday.)
All of which leads me to say, somewhat ruefully, that when anyone needs a hand, they are always there to offer it. And we are always there to take them up on it.
Sadly, it would seem that in the years since my father's passing not much has changed in that regard. Because, as they stand poised to confront the loss of their mother, matriarch, and lifelong friend, my sisters and I stand well back in that physical distance by which we've attempted to escape, not the hometown which ostensibly made us what we are, but the selves which we were, in any case, destined to become...
LPK
LiveJournal
5.21.2014
