The weather is wonderful today, sunny and crisp. It reminded me that winter can be lovely.

We continue to refine our system, our roles and plans. The medical system provides much support for end-of-life care at home, but you have to know what to ask for. Part of that is getting the family to understand and agree on the options.

Yesterday, Mom spent much of the day sleeping. In the evening, Dad and I helped her into bed before we  watched a bit more TV. Later, as I was heading to bed, I heard Mom calling out. She was attempting to get out of bed but had become entangled in the blankets. I carefully untangled her and provided comfort, although she expressed a reluctance to lie back down. Instead, she wanted to be with Dad. I gently sat her up, placing my arm around her for support.

In her slow and labored voice, she began to speak. It became evident that she was aware of her fading memory. She explained how she had no grasp of her location or how she had arrived there. She knew that was wrong. That scared her. The only certainties she held onto was that I was her son, and that that Dad was somewhere out there. Patiently, I reassured her, explaining that she was in her home, in her bedroom, and that Dad would join her shortly. This seemed to offer solace, and her breathing gradually relaxed. I continued on, telling her that family would always be near to her, even if she couldn't see us.  I asked her more about how she felt.  She struggled to articulate her thoughts and spoke a few sentences that ultimately trailed off.

First Weekend

​We've settled into our routines, caring for Mom, who is now more disabled than she was at Christmas. Despite this, she seems more at peace and accepting of our assistance.

Moving Mom safely now requires two people. My middle brother and his wife have been invaluable in providing much-needed help. My sister-in-law, a healthcare worker, is well-versed in her job and has been teaching us how to lift and transport the disabled, as well as helping me manage Mom's medical care.

While here, I'm navigating life and missing my husband, but I won't rush back. I'm preparing some old snowshoes and cross-country skis for use this winter… a way to appreciate the valley for what it is.

For all the stress there is on my family, things are going about as well as can be expected. We have switched mom from curative to palliative medicine. That quickly changed mom's medical care. Out went a prohibition against drinking alcohol. Now the doctor recommends we break out the good stuff. Soon our home will have a hospital bed, a commode and other supplies for supporting someone is getting weaker every day.

And I am back in the Ottawa Valley.

On Sunday afternoon, Dad called me. He was on the verge of tears. He explained that Mom was getting weaker every day—barely eating and struggling to stand up. Someone needed to be by her side even when using the toilet.

I flew up later on Sunday afternoon. Fortunately for me, Ottawa isn't a popular destination in January, making last-minute seats easy to get and not too expensive.

My husband (Thank you, sweetie!) is taking care of home and the dog while I am away.

My brothers and I have planning to do. My sister-in-law, who works in elder care, has reminded us that Mom could live for weeks or months. There is no way to know for sure.

I've been sorting through palliative care options with my father. Mom is not suffering, but she is very floppy, having difficulty moving or sitting up in her chair. My sister-in-law is teaching us how to move Mom safely without hurting our backs or manhandling her. For now, Mom will stay at home.

I want to understand how quickly we could get Mom into a proper hospice if she starts experiencing pain. To answer that, my job for now is to project manage the different care providers. Dad doesn't know how big hospital systems operate, what questions to ask, or how to be assertive in seeking information. He tends to be too polite and passive, trusting that all care providers will get back to him when needed.

And how is Mom? She is quiet, tranquil, and claims not to be in pain. My sister-in-law agrees. There are no signs of wincing or flinching. Mom sleeps a lot, listens when you talk to her, and smiles and laughs a little. Maybe she'll ask you to repeat yourself when she doesn't understand, and then she lays back and naps a bit more.

The doctor and dad have talked. Mom has stage four cancer. The doctor recommends palliative care instead of treatment. 

My brothers and I have discussed. While we don't know how long mom will live, we want to spend time with her while she can still appreciate our visit. I'm planning to fly up for a month. That's a large commitment. I need to coordinate that with my husband. We will need to figure out dog care as my husband frequently travels for work and I take care of our dog when he is out. My work should be OK with this. I'll be able to work from my parents place, though with east coast hours.

My brothers and I will stay at our parents place for this trip. One struggle with that is the spare bedroom mattresses are old and uncomfortable. They are literally the beds and mattresses we had as kids. Dad is not one to spend cash on creature comforts. My brother joked.... "If those mattresses were good enough for you when you were a kid, then they should be good enough for you as an adult." 

We are sending some mattresses to our parents. As remote as my parents are, Amazon ships there. 

My youngest brother will drive up to my parents tonight. The neighbors and family have been updated to give dad some space. When dad is ready, the visits will begin.

My home office window overlooks our backyard, where a hummingbird feeder has been attracting these birds for years. This morning, I noticed that the feeder had frozen due to first big dip in temperatures. This is not uncommon in the Pacific Northwest winter. Hummingbirds are equipped to handle it.

Midway through the morning, I received an email that the results of my mother’s latest chest scan were available. My mother is on the decline, sleeping more, coughing more, and eating less. My father asked me to call when the results came in, hoping they would point to the cause.

And they did. My mother’s lung cancer has returned. My husband and I read the file together, and he helped interpret the dense language spoken by doctors.

I don't think I could process the emotions of the situation so when I looked up and saw a hummingbird buzzing around the frozen feeder, I decided that I immediately needed to help the hummingbirds by providing them with a thawed feeder. I made some new hummingbird food and swapped out the frozen feeder for the fresh one with the new liquid food. Two hummingbirds rapidly flew to it, but instead of sipping from the feeder, they attacked each other and then flew away. This happened a few times. They are so greedy and territorial.

After a while, a lone hummingbird came back to the feeder and took a long drink rather than its usual quick sip. He flew away, and then the other flew in. Things could be so much better for them if they knew how to share.

I video called my parents and shared the news. My father’s voice wavered a little. I think he was also a little relieved. The cancer explains my mother’s symptoms.

Mom was frustrated with the conversation. Her dementia doesn’t allow her to remember events more than five minutes ago, so we had to catch her up and be as simple and blunt as possible about the situation: she has lung cancer, but it has not spread beyond the lungs and is treatable. In a few days, dad and she will discuss treatment with the doctors.

After the call with my parents, I informed my brothers and a close cousin. We will talk later and decide what we must do and how we can help.

Work is a peculiar blend of pressure and relief. The relief comes from the absence of upper management and some colleagues who are either sick or on vacation. The pressure, however, is due to the looming deadlines for significant commitments next week. Those present are striving to complete as much as possible to prevent a crisis. In the meantime, I’m making decisions that ideally require our VP’s input, hoping there won’t be too much to rectify upon his return.

The chill of winter is finally upon us. The season’s first snowflakes are gently falling outside my window. This morning, a hummingbird was spotted at our feeder, preparing for the cold snap.

On a personal note, I’m working to minimize distractions and reduce my reliance on my cellphone. I haven’t completely abandoned social media, but I’ve stopped checking my cell first thing in the morning and only use it when necessary during the day. This change has freed up more time for me to engage in activities of my choice, such as writing, reflecting, thinking, and exercising.

These minor distractions are everywhere. Even opening a web browser for work presents enticing notifications that attempt to divert my attention from my tasks.

Back to work

​This week at work remained calm with many colleagues still on vacation, I focused on preparations for an upcoming meeting. This was a little challenging with the absence of key collaborators.

Saturday we caught up on errands, such as packing away Christmas decorations and organizing the garage, lunch with the mother-in-law plus a garbage run and grocery shopping for the week. A productive day.

New Year

​Vacation is over. Flying back to Seattle now. We have consumed far too many sweets. My belly has grown. Maybe we shouldn’t call something delicious if it makes you feel like a bloated cow.

It was wonderful to catch up with friends. I’ve known many of them for years, decades really. Together we’ve gone through many of life's challenges.

We spent as much time with GM as we could. Her husband passed away last July. She has recovered well, though this is her first Christmas as a widow. Her husband didn’t have a will. This has slowed down probate. Financially, she’s OK, but the extra delays are frustrating.

My husband and I also don’t have a will either. There is a draft that we’ve been kicking around for over a year. We need to get that done.

A few of us are also starting to experience parents who have aged to the point where they struggle to take care of themselves. No easy solutions here. We can only patiently support each other through the heartbreak of watching your parents in the last decade of their lifes.

My husband and I are also having good discussions around where we want to retire. It won’t be Toronto. Perhaps we’ll stay there now and then when the weather is pleasant. Winter is too cold and gray.

We are within three or four years of having enough savings that retirement won’t be a financial shock. We still have to answer the question “What will we do with our time? What shall we do with our lives?” A life with little more than travel and socializing would drive me nuts. So, here I am in my fifties reasking that age-old question “What is the meaning of life?” Perhaps I am better able to tackle that question now than I was in my youth. Nonetheless, the question still stands