Gerontology practicum

I studied gerontology in college. When I graduated in 1990, I was thirty years-old and seven months pregnant with our oldest child. Rather than pursuing grad. school, I made the decision to stay home and raise our children. (Side note: I have never regretted that choice.) In the next three years I had three children. My focus was not on the elderly but on babies and toddlers. Two more children came in the following six years, so the focus on the younger set continued.

That all changed in the autumn of 2002. My mother, living three hours away, was needing to move to a less expensive area. The San Francisco Bay Area is no place to live on a fixed income, unless you are fixed with lots of zeros at the end of your monthly check. My mother spent forty-six years on the peninsula, and familiarity and security were found for her around every corner. Her Episcopal church was a huge part of her life and brought her an opportunity for giving and receiving for all those years. She started there as a young mother, weathered the storm of being the first divorced woman on the block, and then continued to serve in every imaginable arena, local and regional. But, the jig was up, and it was time to move.

I was a gerontology student. I was prepared for this, right? Just like all of you child development majors were ready to raise children, right? (Go ahead and wipe the coffee off of the monitor from your cynical guffaw. We'll wait.) I was not prepared, but I have weathered the storms so far. Having my mother live in our granny flat has become one of the most satisfying parts of my life, even though moving her was a nightmare. The lessons Mom and I have learned, are learning, will learn, will find their way to the pages of A Circle of Quiet on a regular basis.

For now, there are three books that I have read in recent years that have been helpful:

Another Country: Navigating the Emotional Terrain of our Elders, by Mary Pipher, Ph. D. (yes, she wrote Reviving Ophelia. Not a fan of Ophelia; greatly appreciate Another Country.)

This book helps see the experience of aging from the elderly's perspective. It is far too easy to get firm ideas of how someone should respond to aging; it is another thing completely to take the time to hear their side of the story.

As Parents Age: A Psychological and Practical Guide, by Joseph A. Illardo, Ph.D., L.C.S.W.

Some discussion on aging in general, but mostly very practical information:
impact on the family, mental illness, helping a parent stay in their home, when a parent must leave home, end-of-life decisions, and when a parent is gone. Very helpful in anticipating what might be ahead.

In The Checklist of Life, by Lynn McPhelimy

A book of blank lines: places for social security number, doctor names, financial information, real estate details, family memories, and things like, "Where did you get the china hutch?" 138 pages of blank lines for the person that keeps all the details of their life in their own head.

This remarkable author had the unthinkable happen -- both parents had terminal cancer - at the same time. She listened to what they needed to say. Her mother had lots to say, her father wanted to make sure that she knew where the septic tank was so that the yard wouldn't get all dug up. Oh, this comparison could easily be me and my husband someday. It sure made me smile.

Now, a bit of a caveat: I loved this book and bought it for my mother several years ago. She was the only one that could tell me that the hutch used to be my grandmother's, or where I could find her will or her checkbook. We were not getting along well (I had no idea how ill she was feeling at the time), so my delivery of the book was characteristically blunt: "Mom, this is a book for you. If, when you are gone to glory, I find that this book is empty, I will know that I can do whatever the heck I want to with you and your stuff, okay?" I was frustrated, and understandably so.

When she moved two years later, I found the book, spine facing the back of the bookcase, in some sort of defiant posture, and perfectly empty. Well, since she moved, she feels remarkably better. Now that I know she loves a good decaf. mocha, we can sit with some steaming mugs and talk. We might even fill in the blanks that are really important to her. She has seen the shadow of death, in the days right before and after she moved, so she is more willing to accept the reality of the future. I, on the other hand, am willing to work with the limitations of the present. Finally, after a forty-five year relationship, we are learning to be a good team.