We will be in Toronto for the week leading up to GS's Celebration of Life. We have received requests from our circle of friends to spend time with GS's family - to listen, go for walks with them, and help them navigate the bureaucratic speed bumps they encountered while taking over GS's affairs. GS did not plan for his death, so there is no will or list of accounts or affairs that must be dealt with. GS wasn't hiding anything; he simply wasn't the best at keeping his books up to date.

On a happy note, Saturday marked a family reunion on my father's side. Relatives from all over the country gathered to celebrate and reconnect. At least fifty people attended, including my uncles, cousins, their spouses, kids, and grandkids.

I mostly recognize my uncles and first cousins, but I struggle to remember everyone else.

On Sunday, about half of us attended our old church, and afterward, we gathered at a cousin's house for lunch.

With all the cousins in town, this was the first time I've really thought through the details of my family tree. A few of us were chatting about the surprising connections. I made a quip, saying, "There is some interesting cross-pollination going on there."

A cousin laughed, nodded, and responded, "That's a great way of putting it."

There is no incest or marriage between cousins, but the number of double relationships was surprising and caused us to double-check. It's good that my generation moved away from home and stopped marrying from within the Church.

GS won't recover. He is brain dead. The family has decided to remove him from life support, and to proceed with organ donation.

It's all very sad. I am at a loss for words.

My brother and cousin have started repairing my parents wet basement. We think we've found the source of the leaks. 

Mom doesn't like the work and construction. She think's we are hiding something from her. Of course she can't remember anything from more than two minutes ago, so its best if we choose the doors and work behind her back. Which leads to more accusations that we are hiding something from her.

Personal aid workers are starting to show up for mom. We are carefully introducing them to mom since she is not comfortable around strangers. 

GS is still in intensive care. The doctors have communicated that, should GS live, he will require extensive care for the rest of his life. His wife and their kids are weighting the options. 

The doctor has shared that GS may not recover. M, his wife, has discussed this with their kids. Our old gang of friends is rallying around them, helping in any way they can, ensuring they have food and clean laundry, and taking care of their pets.

As for my parents-- my brother, cousin, and I continue to fix up their house. There is a lot of water seeping through the floor in one room of the basement, causing mold and rotting wood. We (mostly my brother) have torn out those walls and flooring to prevent the mold from spreading. We also bought a humidifier to dry that room out. Once it's dry, we'll decide how to rebuild it again. Dad has made it clear that we can't leave it unfinished.

Last night, a few of us went to see some community theater, and it was a good show with great music. However, Mom and Dad stayed home as Mom needs to go to bed early. She starts to forget where she is after about seven pm.

In AA they say "We share our experiences in a general way." I see the wisdom of this when I think about my mother. It's so easy for me to call out the many ways her mind and body are decaying. Yet, that's not what I want to do here. I don't want to be to be a chronicler of someone with dementia. 

I want to be positive and forward looking. Whatever that means in this situation.

My brother from Alberta and his wife have arrived arrived with their trailer. They will be here for at least two weeks. It's good to see them. This gives us a few more options for managing mom. One of us can hang with her while the rest of us work on the house or farm. There is some differed maintenance at their house.Nothing that a week of hard work won't fix.

Death Stalks You at Every Turn...

While I've been here, GS, a friend from college, had a massive heart attack while playing softball. He is recovering in the hospital. 

DLB, a high school friend, completed her chemo for breast cancer. She is recovering well.

These friends are both my age.

Mom's dementia has its quirks, mostly repeated behaviors. She is fond of pointing out when someone is loosing hair. She does regularly to dad. The husband shaves his head. When I show mom a picture with him, she will quickly point out his head.

For mom, everything needs a piece of paper under it. Glasses will be placed on napkins. She doesn't really think about it. She just does it. Then there is the way she handles receipts and junk-mail. These will accumulate under the cutting board in the kitchen and under her placemat at the dinner table.

Over the weekend I toured around the neighborhood. When I lived here as a teen, I kept to the farm, the local village and my schools. I should have explored more. This area can be beautiful. Oh well. It gives me a reason to explore more now. 

Things are going as expected considering mother's memory problems. She doesn't recall the stroke or spending a month in the hospital.

My mother gets frustrated and sad about losing control of her life. My father and I will discuss an upcoming appointment with her. At that point, my mother will interject, questioning who scheduled the appointment and why. She insists she feels fine and fails to understand the need to visit the doctor. If we explain that she had a stroke and that the appointment is a follow-up to her hospital stay, she sometimes becomes sad and introspective. Other times, she pushes back, claiming she doesn't remember.

Mom is home today, sitting comfortably in her chair. Our main challenge is to remind her to use her walker whenever she needs something. Left to her own devices, she tends to try walking unassisted, resulting in struggles and stumbling.

My parents' house is situated on a lovely little property, offering wonderful views. However, it also has corners that are a homeowner's nightmare.

While Dad knows how to keep the problems at bay, he has not been able to do so lately due to the amount of time that Mom needs.

After a heavy rain, the chimney flue needs to be cleaned out. Additionally, the floors in the cold storage room have become wet, and its lower walls have turned black. Moreover, the Internet becomes flaky during heavy rain.

During my stay here, we can consult with my cousins, some of whom are skilled contractors, to find solutions for these issues.

Yes, I am using AI on these posts. I can quickly dictate something, then the AI can edit my dictation into something that isn't rambling and running on. 

I spent the day at the hospital with my mother. We spent most of the time in the cafeteria. In the cafeteria, mom convinces herself that she is in a restaurant, and becomes more at ease. 

In the cafeteria, I met Duncan, who introduced himself as "Duncan, the character from Shakespeare's play Macbeth, rather than Dunkin as in the donut chain." Accompanied by his wife, who relied on a wheelchair after a recent fall, they engaged in games and conversations with other couples.

"What is the difference between an oral thermometer and a rectal thermometer? The taste."

Later, my cousin joined us, demonstrating her gift of conversation, which was particularly appreciated when spending extended time with someone with dementia. 

Later in the day, after my father returned, my mother had a seizure, which was both distressing and new for me to witness. The nurses responded swiftly, providing immediate care, and over the course of half an hour, my mother gradually recovered.

I am currently up in the Ottawa Valley, where my mother is expected to be discharged from the hospital in just a couple of days. Dad, my brother, and I have already started discussing the arrangements for her return home. It's an important decision that requires careful consideration.

We are all aware that the extent of her improvement will play a significant role in determining our next steps. If her condition is manageable, we are hopeful that Dad can take on the responsibility of caring for her at home. It would mean providing her with the support and assistance she needs while ensuring her well-being.

However, we are also mindful of the potential challenges that lie ahead. We have begun looking into local long-term care facilities as a viable option. While I understand that Mom may strongly resist this idea, we must prioritize her overall well-being and consider what is best for everyone involved. If the burden becomes too great for Dad or if her care requires specialized attention, we may need to seriously consider this alternative.

Throughout these discussions, one thing has become increasingly evident: the emotional toll it takes on Dad. It's heart-wrenching to witness the vulnerability and sadness he has shown during this difficult time. It serves as a stark reminder of the depth of our family's love and the profound impact this situation has on us all.

As we navigate this uncertain path, our primary objective remains the same – ensuring the best possible care and quality of life for Mom. We will continue to weigh our options, considering all factors, including her physical and emotional well-being. Our decisions will be driven by love, compassion, and a shared commitment to her happiness and comfort.

In the end, no matter which direction we choose, we are united as a family, ready to face the challenges together. With open hearts and unwavering support for one another, we will find the strength to navigate this new chapter in our lives, cherishing the precious moments we have with Mom and striving to provide her with the care she deserves.