Still Teaching, Even Now

(Time Period: In the last few months of my mother’s life while she received hospice care.)

The Gentle Reminder

In the final months of my mother’s life, I sat by her bedside while she rested, played soft music and even watched a bit of the Food Network with her when she was up for it. The days ebbed and flowed with the overall direction clear but the exact timing unknown. Overall it was a peaceful phase.

My primary focus was on what I could do to make her comfortable depending on how she was that day and what changes we were noticing. I would send brief texts to friends with the daily update. One day as I was talking with my friend, Monica, and just as we were ending our conversation, she added a gentle comment: “Remember, she is still teaching you.”

Monica knew that my mother had been a teacher by profession and by nature. She was also aware that the notes I had been capturing on scratch pieces of paper for the last five years of caring for my mother had been pointing the way to a future book. Her comment that day, however, was meant for my benefit on a spiritual level: to open and to receive. She’s still teaching you.

Her words immediately impacted me and broadened my focus to include not only what I was doing for my mother, but what she was doing for me.

While the caregiving questions remained:

What does she need today?
What’s going to happen?

Now there were new questions:

What is she showing me?
What does she want me to know?

What Are They Teaching?

How does someone teach when they are not saying much or when what they are saying isn’t easily understood?

Years ago during my initial coach training, I took a class taught by a master coach with a degenerative illness that caused her speech to be affected. Though it was difficult to understand her at first, her instructions to students at the beginning of the course were unapologetic. She simply stated: You will have to listen with your heart.

Through every stage and now in this final one when she was mostly silent and sleeping, was my mother really teaching me? Yes, I am certain of it.

Even through the range of emotions and behaviors that dementia produces including states of agitation, irritability, aggression, sadness and withdrawal, they are showing us many things. They are teaching us about: strength, weakness and vulnerability, identity, what connects us to each other, acceptance, letting go, trusting and most importantly, they are teaching us about love.

Even Now

A friend is overseeing the care of her cousin who is experiencing cognitive decline. It had been a frustrating week with determining what level of care was required. I asked her what her cousin was teaching her and at first, exasperated, she said, “I don’t know. What’s she teaching me?” Then after just a moment or two of considering the question, she had her answer for that particular day:

She is teaching me to be more tolerant. She is teaching me to be patient.

Another friend texted me on her way to visit her father who has dementia:

I’m going to remind myself of that today as we visit. He’s teaching me to take joy in the little things he still recognizes: Flowers. Sun. Rain. Clouds. The rosary. Mass on TV. To talk more slowly. To have patience. He’s definitely still teaching me. I’m making that today’s mantra.

Even if you’re not caring for someone with dementia, you can take these themes and lessons to other areas of your life. Everything we witness in life – the birth of a baby, the death of a loved one, suffering of all kinds – causes us to ask the deep questions and to ponder our existence, our purpose, our beliefs, our relationship with God. Will we allow these experiences to open us? To see with love?

While I’m in the process of writing this book, there are many unique yet parallel experiences of friends and family. My niece is finding her way through cancer treatment. My friend is recovering from brain surgery. Another has a friend who is only in her 50’s and moving into the final stage of early onset Alzheimer’s. A lifelong friend who cares for an adult son with special needs is looking for ways to recover from the setbacks and regression that occurred due to isolation during the pandemic. As you are reading this, I’m sure your own list is coming to mind of people in your life going through certain challenges.

When crises arise there are those periods of intense focus, of figuring out what to do, what arrangements to make and how best to manage the issues of the day. Then there are those between times of quiet. It is in those emptier moments when feelings arise and when you try to make sense of things. This is when “teaching you” comes in.

Your loved one is still teaching you. This is a major theme in the book I’m writing and I’ll have more to share with you on this. I offer these initial thoughts today so that you can have this question to take with you.

It can be applied to typical situations within any day, for example: interactions with colleagues (especially the person whose style annoys you) or conversations with people who have a political view with which you passionately disagree. Even when justified in our attempts to persuade, rather than fixate on being right, there is much to learn.

During unique or everyday situations, it’s the question that opens us.

What are they teaching me today?

Photo Credit for featured photo above (elderly person’s hands):
“comforting a senior” © sabinevanerp via Canva.com