What My Family (Kind’a) Learned From Dad’s Death

Thursday was Mom’s 82nd birthday. Happy Birthday Mom! If you missed my Thursday note, I’ll share the brief version. She jokingly asked for a unicorn party, so I gave her one, complete with what I’ll loosely call a ballon arch…perhaps more of a balloon moon. And no, I didn’t get photos. I totally forgot.

Never has she had a birthday like the one she had this year.

Last Monday, my former sister-in-law and her three children took Mom out to dinner. Birthday event #1. She loved it. Mom babysat my nieces and nephew from newborn until around two years of age, so she was close to them.

On Tuesday, my nephew, age 21, took her to brunch. He insisted on paying so she downscaled where they were going from Original Pancake House to Scramblers…in other words down from a $75 bill for two people to maybe $40. She loved this so much. She has a special place in her heart for her boys, which, now that I think of it, is just like her mother.

On Wednesday, we chilled. Nothing big going on.

Thursday, my youngest niece took her out to lunch also, except this was also a pre-college shopping trip. This niece is just 18 years old. She took Dad’s death particularly hard, but in her defense, she’s always been close to Mom. They go shopping like this every couple of months.

Thursday night, I’d invited the entire family over for cupcakes and cake after dinner. Short of those who were out of town and the older of my two brothers who had bronchitis, everyone showed.

Yesterday, we had lunch with my former daughter-in-law and their three children, who had attended the night before.

So that’s all great. Mom had a great a birthday week. As I write, we still have one more event with my youngest, who also didn’t attend. She has chronic migraines and was ‘migraining’ on Thursday. We’re having lunch with her and my middle daughter today. That should end birthday week.

So, here’s what’s changed.

The Level of Attention

Last year was the first year I did the ‘themed’ birthday for Mom, but not the first year I’ve done the cupcakes after dinner thing for her. So, that didn’t change. What did change was everyone’s dedication to the event. In years past, we might get half to attend, and they would come in and out.

Now, everyone showed up pretty much on time and stayed a while.

She’s also never, and I mean never had so many invitations to share a meal with her loved ones. Usually, when my sister-in-law invites her out, it’s for one of their events, like graduations, ‘milestone’ birthdays (18, 16, 21, etc.), and so on.

Mom was also astounded at the number of ‘Happy Birthday’ texts she received on Thursday, from friends and family alike. I loved hearing her talk about how many messages she received.

Appreciation

I love the attention everyone put on Mom’s birthday because if I had to guess, I’d say her love language is appreciation. She loves to feel loved and appreciated. I mean, we all do, but she really does feed off of it.

Everyone loves to feel appreciated, of course, but for Mom, it is necessary. She has low self-esteem and low confidence so this helps her see that she is loved, and she is worthy of other people’s love.

Mom is one of those people who thinks she needs to buy her way into people’s hearts, so for everyone to show up for her without motivation other than celebrating her makes me feel hopeful for the lot of them.

Gifts

Everyone loves to receive gifts. Dad was like a little child when it came to gifts, during his dementia years anyway. He opened presents with such delight that you wanted to get him something just to watch him open it.

Mom does not like to receive gifts. She likes to give. However, we’ve all learned how to give her things she will enjoy. I shared the bird print I drew for her the other day, but it’s also above in case you missed it. Inside, I included this:

When you believe

Beyond what your

Eyes can see,

Signs from Heaven

Show up to remind

You that

Love never dies.

She gave me a hug with a big thank you. I was just hoping it wouldn’t make her cry.

My youngest grandson, soon to be seven, brought her a hand-drawn card. My younger niece brought her some pretty flowers, which she does almost every time she comes over. The older of my brothers bought her a “Bonnie Braids” doll from EBay. Apparently, it was a doll she had as a child and she’s been reminiscing about it a lot lately.

Other than hugs, that was the extent of her gifts. I did also see a sticky note from my youngest niece. I opened it just to see what it was because it was folded in half, and it started out with “Grandma, I love you so much…” I closed it. Private. I asked if she’d seen it and then put it with the flowers.

What Did They Learn?

So, what exactly has my family learned? Kind of…

They have learned that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed and that we need to spend time with the people we love.

Even my younger brother (I’m the oldest) has started coming around more often.

On Valentines’ Day, my nephew called and invited her out for a dinner date. It meant the world to me because I was struggling with how she was going to deal with the day. My parents weren’t big celebrators of Valentine’s Day, but still…the first one after Dad’s passing. Nobody to buy a card for…

They have also learned to spend time with her while she can remember it. It’s most definitely easier to be around someone in early stages of dementia, barely noticeable, than to be with someone who’s fully in. She didn’t repeat herself while they were all here, although she did after they left.

It seems that only my oldest daughter has kept her status quo. She was driving back from a business trip to Louisville so she didn’t attend, but her husband and twin daughters did, and him bringing them meant a lot. He’s socially anxious so I know it wasn’t easy for him. She would have come, but her behavior towards Mom hasn’t changed. She rarely sees her, even though she lives close and babysits our dog all the time.

What Did I Learn?

Having done all the research I’ve done over the past several months, I know that celebrations like this last one won’t always be possible. There will come a time when too many people will feel overwhelming for Mom.

So I learned to celebrate her in a big way while we can. Let her be the center of attention while it’s feasible for her to do so.

I also learned that sometimes the best gift you can give someone is your time. For elderly people, especially those who no longer drive, they feel like a burden anytime they want to go somewhere or do something. There’s no way to alleviate that feeling of being a burden except to remind them that you’re right where you want to be.

And I learned that sometimes you have to ‘encourage’ others to spend that time too. Having these parties gets them all out of their own worlds, if only for a couple of hours, and reminds them that time is precious, and that we aren’t all here forever.

And I’ve learned over the years that the best gifts are gifts from the heart - handmade, heartfelt, and full of love.

The Takeaways

I think because Dad’s death was pretty sudden, it shocked us all and shook us to our core, but for those of us who had bothered to be around him during his last five weeks, we knew it was a a blessing for him.

And yet, death can teach us so much. It shows us how treasured someone was to our lives, even if we didn’t really see it at the time.

It shows us what a vacuum one single person leaves in their wake.

It reminds us that we have no control over our destiny, and that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for any of us.

And it teaches us to celebrate the living while we can, and while they can enjoy it.

We can mourn those we’ve lost, but personally, I hope nobody spends a lot of time crying over me when I’m gone. I want them to sit around and remember all the dumb stuff I did, like nearly fifteen years ago on Christmas Eve when I was sitting in one of those wooden folding chairs, leaned forward, and had the chair fold up under me. I fell hard to the floor and my mother and middle daughter still laugh about it. In fact, my daughter tries to tell people that I caused her to go into labor for my grandson, who was born the next day. (She fails to tell the part where they’d already been to the hospital that day for what they thought was labor).

Or the time I had baked two birthday cakes - one for my grandson and one for his sister. He had helped me create Mario Kart characters out of fondant. We’d spent a week forming them out of the edible ‘clay’. I lived in an apartment over my garage, and as I was taking his cake to the car, I missed the last step, thinking I was already at the bottom. The cake and I both tumbled to the ground, both damaged.

I was devastated. Later that day, I made my way to the ER where I was put on bed rest because I’d sprained one foot and the other ankle. However, first, I struggled to get to the local bakery to buy a new cake. I took his fondant pieces with me to the party and someone there assembled a new cake. He still talks about it.

Those are the things I want my family to remember. No tears, because I’ve lived the life I wanted to live, and there’s nothing to cry over in that case. Sure, they can miss me. They’d better miss me! But a life well lived shouldn’t be cried over.

I hope it also taught them all to appreciate every day they have, because each one is a gift, whether you’re doing your own thing or spending time with someone you care about.

Wrap Up

I know this isn’t my usual ‘informational’ article, but these thoughts have been on my mind for a couple days now. Everyone deals with this dementia journey, and with death, differently. I’m certainly no expert on it. And everyone’s way of dealing with both is okay. There’s no right or wrong.

But we can learn from the things we wish we’d done differently. Instead of sitting around kicking ourselves for those things, I personally believe we’re better off to learn something from those wishes and move forward with our new knowledge.

If you regret not telling someone something when you could, be sure to tell others things you want to say, instead of waiting for another time or a better opportunity.

If you regret not spending enough time with someone, make them a priority in your life and set aside that time.

For regrets about saying no when you could have said yes, consider why you said no, and when you can say yes in the future.

If you’re afraid to try something new, resolve to face that fear and try anyway.

We live in such a ‘right now’ world today. I’m old enough to remember a time when there was no voicemail or answering machine. If someone called and you weren’t home, you wouldn’t even know unless they told you later. We all survived. But today, if someone calls and you don’t answer, they feel slighted or start worrying about your well-being.

But perhaps we had it right before all this technology came about. Go spend time with your family. Forget about the urgency of an email or text message or answering your phone whenever it rings. Don’t let others interrupt the special moments that are out there waiting to be experienced.