The Mom Chronicles:The Ultimate Role Reversal

A note on this one...
I never did have this one put in the paper... partly because it was too long, and partly because I decided to "save it" for another time.... It was very meaningful to me, though, and I hope you enjoy it.
Amy


The Mom Chronicles: The Ultimate Role Reversal


Welcome back, moms. I don't know about all of you but this warmer weather has me thinking spring. Flowers. Digging in dirt and planting seeds while watching the first butterflies of the season appear. It's likely only a weather tease, but I am thinking spring. A time of warmth. A time of rebirth. A time when the old and dirty is washed away and new layers of life emerge.

All this thinking about new life and seasons changing some what emerged this past weekend for me when I made a visit up north to see my grandparents (to see a potential new Peterson family member of the furry, four legged, barking variety as well, mind you!) - but to see my grandparents and pay a visit to dear old mom. The visit, besides to check out the new puppy, ultimately came about because my grandmother, whom I have mentioned in the past as suffering with metastatic breast cancer, recently has grown increasingly ill. Her very stubborn side prevented her from accepting her need for medical intervention before it was too late and she ended up quite ill with pneumonia. For her, it was a great step backwords. She had just started regaining her strength, doing things such as helping my grandfather wash dishes because he doesn't do them the "right" way, and getting around a bit more independantly. Now she finds herself struggling to get out of her bed or recliner and over and over asking, "Why am I just so tired?"

See, grandma is a lot like me (or I guess you could say really, I am a lot like her.) She doesn't like to ask for help. She doesn't like having to require medical interventions. She is horribly stubborn and strong willed and has her mind set that if she just ignores something long enough it will just go away. Naturally, this was not the case with her cancer, and is not the case now.

And that said, grandma finds herself very dependant on the help of others. Her unwillingness to ask for help, has actually lead at times to her requiring MORE of it, and so we as her family have taken on the role of trying to care for her and allow her to live in her home. When I say we, I primarily mean my grandpa, mom and aunts as well as periodically myself. And this whole thing has brought light to me the great role reversal that takes place when we age, when we as moms or grandmothers get to a place when instead of our children having to rely on us, we need to rely on them. When instead of us being their all to take care of, they are ours taking care of us.

This weekend I found myself face to face with this very thing. As someone who has always been very close to my grandparents, I have become someone that my grandma looks to for answers or reassurance in times when things aren't always so clear. And I admit I don't always know what to do with this. This weekend, while faced with this challenge, I found myself thinking, "What would grandma say?" Or in other words, if it was I who was asking her for the reassurances she was looking for, what would her responses be to me? What would she say, for example, if I asked her if I was going to make it (live)? What would she say if I expressed deep feelings of depression over a current dark physical state? How would she direct me to see the good and gifts in a situation when I couldn't?

And so I started my responses like any good grandma response would: with God. Now this is hard for me, because in my most religous of upbringing, I loudly admit I struggle to seek God when things get really rough. Grandma? She's stellar. She's like God's number one fan. If you have a problem, there God will be. And so not only is her questioning this very thing she has always tought me throwing me off, but it is challenging me to seek- and very quickly mind you- my own feelings on the matter. And so we started with God and talking about why He does the things He does or doesn't, and then I put on a hat I was much more comfortable with and started the whole lecture on getting to the doctor and seeking help sooner and how this would have helped her in this situation and not taking for granted the time she has been given by letting her stubborness come in the way of seeking help for a illness that is fully curable. (I was much better at this.) And to my amazement- she listened. Grandma actually listened. And then I listened to her. Her lungs, that is. I used my newly learned EMT skills and pulled out my special new stethoscope to listen to her lungs. For my own personal sick, self seeking benefit I was secretly hoping to hear even just one of those crackles in her lung bases "live" in a "real" patient not just on a lung sound machine- but instead only the sound of clear free flowing air rushing through her lungs. Granted I expected this to be the case as the doctor the day before said they were almost completely clear at that point, but for her to hear it from me was a reassurance that seemed to give her new hope. Now yes, she does follow up with her real medical professional this week and so my opinion was just that for whatever it was worth, but there in that moment I gave her something that I never expected to.

And so that role reversal lives. She is still my grandmother. My mom is still her daughter, as are my aunts. My grandpa is still her husband, yet each of us in our own ways have taken on a bit of that which she used to provide for us. And that is a very special thing that happens when we age. We as parents turn that corner of going from where we were the care takers, to our children and grandchildren settling in to that role. And everyone responds to that differently. For me, it has certainly been an adjustment. I still want my strong, witty grandma. I want to be able to walk in to her home and see her up baking or outside kneeling next to her flowers, not physically weak and holding herself up in her chair. I don't want to have to provide answers to her questions about life and death and if she will be here to celebrate her 80th birthday this year. I don't want to have to listen to her lungs to be able to reassure her that her antibiotics are working. I don't want to have to lecture her about getting her arse to the doctor sooner before she declines so much, and about going to bed at night, not staying up and watching the Olympics until midnight and then wondering why she is so darn tired. And yet I do, and I will do, all of those things. Because she has been there and done them for me in the past. She gave me answers, even when she didn't have them. She reassured me even when she didn't know the outcome. She prayed for me and took care of me when I was ill or needed her. And so I will do for her.

As moms, none of us want this. None of us want to imagine the day that we will no longer be able to be there in all the same ways for our kids. But ultimately, we all know that this reality exists and the best thing we can do, is be there for our kids. Teach them the things that will get them through this life, so that when ours is ending, they can be there to remind us of how wonderful ours was. Show them compassion for others that they will take compassion on us when we are ill or no longer who they knew us to be. Lecture them on things like taking care of ourselves and going to bed that one day they can remind us of the same when we forget those same words ourselves. No one likes to think of these things. Not anyone I know, at least. But it is this beautiful, natural occurance in life. Just as the spring comes each year and brings new life, there is the reality of another season ending. What was once is now no longer, or is in some way greatly changed. Think of the butterfly that forms a cacoon only to emerge in to this beautiful butterfly, or of the tree that sheds all of its leaves to be able to bloom with great beauty and buds in the spring. We are ever changing. Life is everchanging. And while those changes are not always easy to see, we - at least I- can not help to feel so very blessed that at least I am here to help guide someone like my grandmother, through a change in her life, that is so less beautiful then a newly budding tree.

Yes, we are all mothers. But don't forget, we were daughters and grandaughters first. Continue on in such a way that you don't forget where you came from, and be sure that in the end, you can always find your way back to the ones who mean the most.