The Joy of Connection (Part 1)
Strangers Who Understand
(Time Period: Within the last ten months of my mother’s life, under hospice care.)
Dinner was about to be served and it was time to wrap up our visit. As Jess and I were on our way out, we turned to see Gabriel wheeling Mom to the head of the table. Rather than transfer her to the dining room chairs, it was better – safer and less of a fall risk – to have her stay in the wheelchair now. Today Mom was smiling, her appetite was good and she had the energy to hold herself up for a meal with the group. It was more common, however, to find her leaning to one side, no matter how much the caregivers repositioned her or propped her up with pillows. That Mom might slide out of the chair was a constant concern.
Jess unlocked the car door and suggested we head directly to a store to find a makeshift seatbelt. We drove to REI (the outdoor sports equipment store) in search of a solution. It didn’t dawn on us that these wheelchair accessories are readily available online or at medical supply stores. Read more
Earlier this year a new caregiver couple moved into my mother’s group home. Prior to their retiring, the former caregivers tended to my mother for three years with great love and kindness. This changeover could have been a time of apprehension but I was reassured by an interaction that first week. While setting the table and about to serve that evening’s dinner, Delia remarked: “I hope they like it. I put my soul into it.” 
Here’s how my Monday morning started last week. I walked upstairs to my office and when there was no computer in sight, the feeling in the pit of my stomach told me what must have happened. That Sunday while on my way into the