"Now That's Good"

“Now That’s Good”, (c) November, 2009, Stu Jenks

    There seems to be no telling which way this disease, this dementia, will go. A few days ago, the Old Old Mary was back. The day after that, it’s as if she was never there. A couple days ago, Mary could hardly speak. Yesterday, her speech was clear and easily understood. Today, I don’t know.
    I’m pretty burnt out after a year of this. Yesterday, I gave her some flowers. She said ‘Thank you.’, but there was very little loving energy behind the comment, not because she didn’t love the flowers. She’s burnt out too. Her appetite is back. Her thinking is clearer, yet the engine is still running down. We just have no idea when the engine will stop. My hope of Mary’s eminent death has faded away.
    I fear too much now: Afraid that the money will run out. Afraid that Mary will suffer much more than a couple more weeks, a couple more months, that Mom could linger for years. Afraid that I’m not really up for The Long Haul, of a couple more years of this. Maybe more. It’s beginning to take its toll on me. It’s very hard to watch someone you love, someone who prays for death everyday like she does, be denied that which she wishes for: To cross over to the Other Side, to see Dad, to see God.
    In a week I’ll be driving to Chicago to have Thanksgiving with a couple of my best friends. I’ll be gone for a week, maybe less. Not too long ago, I thought of canceling the trip, since I thought Mary may die within days or perhaps weeks. Now, I’m going. Mary’s not going to die anytime soon, it appears, but frankly, who in the hell knows? I don’t.
    And I’m one of the lucky ones. We have money. Mary can be in a nice home, with a well-trained staff. So many in America and around the World don’t have money, are having to put a parent or spouse in a health care hell-hole, or having to care for them, themselves, losing their own independent lives, to being a caregiver twenty four, seven. I can pursue my Art career, take care of business and then see Mom every day, whenever it works for me. If we had no money, or no access to a Medicare home, Mary would be living with me. I’d only be leaving the house to get more supplies or when someone was there to watch her, so I could pursue my own dreams, if only for a few hours at a time. I’m so fortunate, but I don’t feel so lucky today. I haven’t felt lucky for a while. I’m not ungrateful, mind you. Just really fucking tired.
    I was the speaker today at a spiritual support group I belong to. I talked about the middle path, the spiritual discipline I try to be faithful to, the journey that is the most fulfilling when I listen to the Quiet Voice Within, not the Monkey Mind of my Ego. And I shared some of the journey with Mom with them. Told a funny story or two. Told a sad story or three. Spoke of my gratitude at being able to help, to try and be giving with few expectations, to being able to be there for my Mom. And then I told them the story of The Highball Request, and then ended with the story of the Medicinal Scotch.
    “So I went and bought the Dewer’s,” I said to the group. “I have been out of the loop for 24 years. Last time, I bought a fifth of Dewer’s, it was ten dollars a fifth. Christ, it’s $30 now!” They laughed. “Anyway, I took the Scotch up to Mary’s place. Two fingers, over ice, big splash of water, and a straw. Found out my mother has her own straw. Go figure. Anyway, I take the plastic cup of Scotch and Water to my mother, to her bedroom. It was after dark. I elevate her bed, elevate her head, and put the straw in her mouth. She sucked and sucked and sucked on that straw. You could see the level of the liquid slowly dropping in the cup. And on she sucked. Then she released the straw from her mouth, threw back her head slightly, and let out a big ‘Ahhhhh.......” They laughed again. “And then, clear as a bell, clearer than any words she had spoken all day, Mary said, ‘Now that’s good!’”

Comments

[Brenda Sutton]

You're going to Chicago! I'm in between Arizona and Chicago. It's only three and a half hours north of my house; pretty straight shot, too.

Coming or going, you know you are welcomed here any time of the day or night, Stu. Stop and stay a while if you can. It would be so good to see you again.

[Tony Novelli]

Stu, you are a blessing for so many, beyond your mother... these sharings demonstrate a true spirituality and full expression of both masculine and feminine. It is an honor to behold, impossible not to empathize with.

Bless you, brother.
Tony