Scholars attribute the saying “All good things must come to an end” to Chaucer, whose end came a long time ago. Other scholars believe the saying was around long before Chaucer. Whoever first spoke or penned those words, I don’t much like them right now. Because those words–and the truth behind them–have settled upon our family with inevitable finality.
Today, Mom is moving into assisted living.
I told her the change needed to be made during our December Camp Dorothy Extravaganza. Her reply? “I knew this day would come someday, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.” Strange words from an 86-year-old, I thought, until she added, “My mother didn’t go to a nursing home until she was 93. I wanted to beat her record.”
“But, Mom,” I said, “this facility is much different from Grandma’s nursing home.”
We talked for a while longer, and she said she just needed time to think. Then she picked up a deck of cards and laid out a game of Solitaire. I watched her wondering what she was thinking, and how the familiar motions of shuffling and organizing the cards by number, red on black on red, aided her thinking.It must have done the trick because she soldiered on through the day in good spirits. Later that evening, when I was helping her get ready for her shower, she said, “I’m sad, Jo,”
“It is sad, Mom,” I agreed. “What’s making you most sad?”
“I won’t ever see this house again,” she said. And with those words, my heart broke. Somehow, I managed to not cry. I couldn’t cry because getting Mom in and out of the shower is dangerous enough without a camp director, blinded by tears. But my heart was–and still is–cracked in two. My mother, whose decline is partly due to Alzheimer’s, clearly saw what I couldn’t bear to admit during a month of constant caregiving, hard decisions, and anticipated changes. Mom knew before I did that all good things must come to and end, which means this.
Camp Dorothy is closed. Forever.
I have come to love Camp Dorothy…I will miss it too…hugs
It hit me hard when I read that Camp Dorothy is closing. Anything about closings and especially with the name Dorothy, which I share, brings tears to my eyes. Your message as well was emotional for me as well. I am celebrating my 80th birthday Tuesday, Jan 13th and think of myself as 80 years young. My plan is to beat my mother’s 93 years of living, but I realize, as your mom does, that wish is out of our hands.
I will share your message with the DAR members when we meet this Sat.
Another Dorothy
My heart breaks for both of you. The important thing is that your mother knows she is loved and after all you have done for her, I am certain she does!
Sigh, Sniff. end of an era. Lots of those these days.
My hear{and eyes) weep with you and for you during these days. Always try to remember you have all done so-o-o very much for your precious mother–sometimes that is difficult but try to believe in that. Hugs sent your way.
Jolene, I know how very difficult this is. My sibs and I moved our mom to a retirement community 3 years ago because of dementia. It was one of the hardest things we’ve ever done. Going through her life, room by room, and deciding what to take, what to leave, what to give away…so many memories. We all grieved together. Today she often says how thankful she is that we found her a beautiful place to live, even though she misses her home. Keeping you and your mom in prayer today.
I don’t know how you managed not to cry, Jolene. You had me crying. Hugs to you my friend.
I just cried later, Sylvia!
Thank you so much, dear cousin. Even knowing we’ve done all we can, it is hard. But is is also good, knowing Mom is safe, and seeing her interacting more with the people where she lives.
You aren’t the only one who will miss it Amy. I can’t believe how many people have followed it over the years.
Thank you so much, Dorothy. I had hoped to send an email to you or Barb, but things have been moving at lightning speed lately, and many good intentions have fallen by the wayside. You are 80 years young, Dorothy!
Thank you Chantale. She does know. In fact she mentions often how well her kids have taken care of her. But the bottom dropped out of her world more than once when she was a young mom and that fear creeps back whenever there’s a change. But we’ll keep stopping in to visit and take her out to lunch when the weather warms up until and after she feels safe once again.
Isn’t that the truth!
When it comes to our loved ones…that end of anything is so hard. Dorothy is such a colorful, interesting person, and that memory will never end. Take care Jo…. and know you are in our thoughts……tell Dorothy hello.
Treasure every moment with her. One time when Rick had taken my Dad to an appointment, I stayed with Mom in assisted care. She was not feeling well and I laid on the bed with her. She didn’t understand why she continued to live and why she didn’t feel well. We cried together, not understanding why life (and death) happen how and when they do. Mom always “ran the show”, organizing trips, vacations, family reunions, kept a large garden, attended our activities, had foster children, always had a few animals that needed care (goats, sheep, horses, chickens, ducks) directed the church choir, drove a school bus for 18 years and many other things that filled her life. Now, she doesn’t know which room is hers or where the dining room is. Have to hold the good memories close. She is not who I know her to have been. (Yes, I’m sure that’s a sentence!)
Oh, Jolene! You have such an amazing heart that oozes out through your words. It is very hard saying goodbye to those chapters of our lives, especially when they are so close to the end of our earthly book. Thinking of you my friend!!! -g
Thank you, Gayle!
Thanks for sharing your wisdom, Vicki. Hugs to you and your mom, too.
I will tell her, Kathy, and knowing you care will make her so happy.
Thank you so much, Kathleen!