A Quest For Connection

Here’s this week’s reflection. I hope it resonates with you and ask that, if you enjoyed, please comment and share on your social media. Heartfelt thanks for all your support!

Keeping the light on for you,

Carol

All is quiet aside from the hum of rubber on pavement, our pensive focus on the fall colors whizzing by as we drive. While the change of scenery is welcome, this is not a dreamy sojourn. It is October. We are headed to Florida to see my elderly father-in-law, and timing is critical. Long-term care facilities recently reopened to visitors, and my husband and I have  enough time off work to travel as well as quarantine. We feel this trip is now or never, and we await our bittersweet reunion.   

Dad is the last living parent, and at 92, he is finally admitting to the fatigue of his long run. One of the few aged souls who survived Covid-19, he is the ultimate comeback kid.  Now Dad is fervently asking to see both  his boys. We refuse to let this opportunity slip by so we traverse the long route armed with a cooler of food and glut of sanitation supplies.  

Dad’s most recent, circuitous journey has been a ping pong match between assisted living, hospitals, a rehab center, and now, a small bedroom in memory care.   

Intermittently confused, lucid periods allow him the horrifying realization that his cognition is heading even further south. Although displeased with his new, more protective digs, Dad has gracefully conceded to their necessity. His decline is heart wrenching for all of us to both witness and process. 

A bare table and three widely spaced chairs await us after we pass requisite entry screening and are ushered to the austere visitation room. Ease of disinfection now precludes the comforts of home. 

Dad enters slowly with his walker. Social distancing prohibits hugs, and masks disguise smiles, but our eyes reflect the light of relief, affection, and gratitude. 

Slow responses allow Dad time to gather thoughts into sentences. He is able to Facetime with granddaughters, and smile lines and laughs are shared. This single allotted hour is a precious gift after too many months of solitude for all of us. 

“The most disgusting thing about all of this,” Dad says ruefully with palpable sadness, “is that I know my memory is fading.” 

Our time up, we say our goodbyes and watch Dad’s steady shuffle back toward his room. The poignant, timely process of memorizing this sweet face for eternity has begun.  

The week passes all too quickly. Dad is now permitted the occasional trip out, and dinner at his other (local) son’s home is serendipitous. The fold is complete again, its warmth holding us all in its snug embrace around the table. Time stands still as candles burn, a meal is enjoyed, and stories are patiently shared. 

Our final scheduled visit of the week seems painfully short. Heavy hearts guide our car north, hopeful for a timely return. 

Safely home and healthy, we trudge forward with visits via video calls. A temporary godsend, sans the scents of familiarity or the feel of love, we are still grateful for this thread of connection, a tightrope to each other’s reality during these unsteady times.  

The holidays pass via daily phone calls documenting Dad’s now audible decline. Our pendulum of sorrow at delusions one day followed by elation with orientation the next is taxing enough, but especially so for this gentle sage.  

Recurrent small strokes are a new villain in town, offering surprise attacks on unsuspecting fragility, now  directing Dad’s path into hospice. A blessing and a curse, end of life decisions have descended upon us. Dad’s marathon is coming to an end; the timing of his finish line crossing known only by his Maker.  

And while Dad is in that finish chute, we continue to fervently look for a parting in the clouds of isolation and the extra hardships created because of the Covid-19 protocols. Yet no matter what, saying goodbye is never easy. We know there never is a guarantee that we will be there with our loved one the exact moment they depart this Earth. Yet still we remain hopeful for one more chance to exchange a loving grasp in person with our beloved, and whisper our thanks for his life well lived.