REFLECTIONS ON MOTHER'S DAY 2010

It is the second Sunday in May and throughout the country mothers are being honored and remembered.  Flowers are being sent.  Hallmark cards have been received.  Cemeteries are being visited. As I do my daily chores in taking care of my bed-bound mother I cannot  help reflecting on my own mother, the mother from my childhood.

I remember so vividly the warm, loving woman waiting in the kitchen with cookies and milk when the kids came home from school.  The mother that was always there with a kiss, an encouraging word and an "I love you".

Oh?  No.  Those memories are of black & white TV shows I grew up in front of.  Those were Harriet Nelson, Donna Reed, Shirley Partridge, Laura Petrie and Carol Brady.  That was not my mother at all.  The household of my early years more resembled Hazel.  The woman waiting in the kitchen with the cookies and juice was my nanny Kay.  The warm words, hugs, kisses and "I love you" were from my father.  The woman taking me for my first day of school was my aunt Gloria.

My mother wasn't the "warm and fuzzy" type.  She was more like Ms. Ellie from Dallas.  She was a working mom who loved her career as teacher and brought that into the home.  I do not remember my mother [Adelaide] ever really treating us as children.  We were treated in much the same way she treated her high school students, with respect and encouragement.

My mother's lack of "warm and fuzzy" is not to be mistaken for a lack of love.  There was plenty of love from  both parents and from "second mom" Aunt Gloria who lived with us.  Adelaide just was not demonstrative.  Some people are "huggers" and some are not.  She was not.  Mom was also not to be misconstrued as cold.  She just showed her love in her own way.

After my father passed away, when I was ten, my mother and I naturally grew closer.  Some of that is because I was now a precocious brat acted more like an adult than a kid.  Some is because we had both lost Pat [the demonstrative one] and need each other more.  Mostly because we liked each other. I am the youngest of three.  There are quite a few years between between me and my siblings. My brother was married.  My sister was plunged into her career and busy dating. I was home.

Something else transformative happened that summer of my tenth year.  My mother and I began to travel.  My mother was a foreign language and history teacher who, at fifty, had never been out of the United States. This was about to change.  To help fill the void left from my father's death and for diversion, a group of us went to Europe.  There were seven of us family members roaming together through England, France and Italy.

"There is no looking at a building here after seeing Italy."

fanny burney

This was an amazing experience for both of us.  One that we would repeat every summer until I was in college.  We traveled.  We explored.  She taught.  I learned.  Adelaide got to see all the places she had read about and studied and taught for so many years.  I got to learn history and culture and languages in a way that you can only get from being there.  We bonded.  

To this day I can't see an image of some foreign landmark or visit a museum or hear opera without thinking of all those trips with mom.  That was the best thing anyone could have ever done for me.  

Now our roles are reversed.  I'm the "mother" taking care of her.  I talk to her about current affairs.  I reminisce and remind her of those trips we shared and sights we saw.  I throw in some French and Italian phrases.  I do it all in hopes that somewhere deep inside it conjures a memory for her.  She smiles and we laugh and not a day goes by that I don't tell her that I love her.  

Mothers come in all flavors.  I think the most difficult thing for children [of any age] to accept is that parents are human with faults and flaws.  We don't have TV parents.  No matter what, mom is always mom.

Happy Mother's Day!

A MAGICAL DAY TRIP TO TROPICAL PSYCHEDELIA

I recently spent an afternoon at the New York Botanical Garden experiencing the special exhibit: "The Orchid Show: Cuba in Flower".  NYBG is a nice place to visit anytime but the annual Orchid Show is always on my calendar. At the close of a particularly harsh winter it is a particularly treasured event.

As you approach the magnificent Haupt Conservatory, with all its gleaming glass, you know you're about to step into an altered reality.  As you enter you are immediately smacked in the face with slightly moist warm air and then you get your first tease of the show you will eventually stumble into.  At once you are welcomed by a tranquil pond filled with architectural details bathed in sunlight and bursting with color.  

At once I was hit with a craving for daiquiris, tostones and Musica Mambo!  I don't know why I hadn't thought to make a corresponding playlist for my iPod.

"Flowers always make people better, happier and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine to the soul." 

luther burbank

When you leave the first area you have to walk though the permanent exhibits as you make your way to the special exhibition.  This is normally a lovely walk, full of rich greenery and dotted with flowers, but on this visit it goes unnoticed.  There are throngs of visitors all being drawn to the orchids like zombies in a B movie.  

After you walk though the Dessert Region with all it's sparse cacti and succulents you begin to enter the fantastic.  The last of the permanent exhibits is a 15 foot hight white gardenia in full blossom.  The perfume is unmistakable from twenty feet away.  

As you open the four-door passageway all you see are orchids.  Color is everywhere.  So many orchids you feel like Dorothy in the Poppy Patch.  It is immediately intoxicating.  This is only the the beginning.  

Some of the orchids appear to have faces.  Others look like insects.  Still others merely look angelic.

As you leave this exhibition hall you enter another passageway only this one is entirely orchids.  There are some green plants and palms evocative of Cuba which are used as props.

When you leave the exhibit you have completed a full loop and spill back out to the entrance lobby where you began your journey.  There are benches so you can sit and stare and process what you've experienced before being thrust back to the real world outside.

The show is running through April 11, 2010.  I strongly urge you to visit.  The adult admission is $20.00.  There is a great cafeteria down the path from the Conservatory.  Soon the Spring flowers will be in bloom so you can explore the grounds.  

Visit:  www.nybg.org for full information

*please note all photographs are taken by me, remain my sole property and may only be used with advance permission and proper credit.

"Please allow me to introduce myself"

This is a milestone year for me. I turned 50. "Middle age" is a misnomer. I don't plan on living to 100 although I'll leave that up to genetics. That's a toss-up because my father died at age 50 but my mother is nearly 90 and has three surviving siblings all over the age of 80.

My early adult years were carefree and exciting. I was an actor, producer, director and at various times in my life I was also a caterer and antiques dealer. I had my hand in a lot of things. I spent all my free time traveling the world seeking adventure, culture and cuisine.

Life Changes Unexpectedly

It's good that I did my roaming when I was younger. Although I'm the same guy I was back then, my circumstances are not. These were great times but unfortunately every time I would return home I would notice that my mother was crying a little more, becoming reclusive and increasingly forgetful. This got pretty hard to ignore, no matter how hard I tried.

The doctors said Adelaide had clinical depression. That’s not too hard to understand or accept. After all she had dealt with so much with her husband dying so young and now she was retired from her beloved teaching. A lot of people get depressed when they retire. Don’t they? Well at least there were medicines to try. And try we did…for years with no improvement. Finally there was a new doctor who introduced a new phrase to the family: Alzheimer’s disease.

That’s a pretty ugly phrase.

That was 20 years ago.

Family and life choices

I have watched my mother descend through so many unpleasant phases of this ravaging illness. Now this formerly articulate woman has arrived back in "infanthood" totally dependent on others for her daily survival. Her journey has also been my journey. Now I want to take others along with us.

I am the youngest of her children and have been her main caregiver for the past 10 years. She lives with me and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I have become a very strong, loving manager. I have found hidden inner strength, both physical and emotional, to cope with becoming the “parent” to my mother with all that is implied. There have been so many “firsts” along the way and every one of them has made us stronger. From the first time my mother forgot a familiar face to the first time we faced incontinence I had a private cry followed by resolve to work though the challenge.

I, like Gloria Gaynor, will survive!

I'm fortunate to have great friends and an amazingly strong family. I still have a great, interesting and rich life. I have learned a great deal about caring for an Alzheimer's patient and mostly I have learned a great deal about myself.

Why blog?

What can you expect to find here?

I plan on sharing amusing stories of family and friends.

I hope to give practical tips and advice for other caregivers.

You can be sure to hear a lot about food and theater. I'm going to share recipes, menus and cooking stories.

When I get the chance to travel you are surely going to hear all about my trips.

Join me

Please feel free to contact me with any questions. Tell me about your experiences as a caregiver. Or just introduce yourself to me.