Sixty Weeks to 60: Mom – the Last Part

Sixty Weeks to 60: Mom – the Last Part

(4 weeks)

In the first year without my dad, I called her every single day without fail.  Because she liked to take long walks, I bought her a cell phone and added her to my plan. I probably should have done a better job teaching her how to use it.

“Mom, where were you? I tried calling a few times.”

“I was out for a walk.”

“I bought you a cell phone, so you could take it with you.”

“But it’s not plugged in.”

I made sure she had lots of fun experiences with her daughter and granddaughter, planning lots of activities that first fall.  She came trick or treating with us. I brought her to Philadelphia for Homecoming and a La Salle University football game (at the tail end of the school’s decade long revival of the football team that had been dormant since the start of WWII). I think that was her first time back on campus since my graduation weekend. 

I took her to lunch at one of my favorite spots on her 80th birthday, and in June that year she came to watch her granddaughter while I ran a 5k to distract her from it being my dad’s birthday, the first we couldn’t celebrate without him. 

When I realized that it might be better to keep her closer, I moved her in with us. It became clear her memory was fading, although, while forgetting more recent history, she dug up memories I had never heard about before. 

She played hide and seek with her granddaughter. She put a ridiculous amount of money under the kid’s pillow when playing tooth fairy. She’d walk to daily mass. On the way home she’d stop at the library to read the New York Post cover to cover. Then on the final leg home, she’d stop at Brady’s at the Station on Main Street for a late lunch. 

That part of our lives was short-lived. I realized we were over our head in providing her with the care she needed. Sometimes she’d wander off and I’d get a call at work. The difficult decision was made to move her to an assisted living residence. Among my regrets is that I couldn’t do more for her and keep her with us. But the dynamic between me, my mom, and my husband was complicated.

After the move, the church never called to see what happened to the elderly women who sat in a pew every morning for close to nine months. The library must not have noticed her there reading each day and didn’t seem to wonder why some books were overdue. The waitress at Brady’s missed her though. She came by the house one day looking for her saying how much she had enjoyed her company and stories and how she had often given her a ride home at the end of her lunch shift.  

She lasted a year in her first assisted living before she needed more care than they could provide. That was followed by close to two years in a memory care facility. Then a doctor suggested hospice. We found a lovely place where she could live out her days. Except days turned onto months.

She came up on the top of the waitlist for a bed at the Veterans Home.  That’s where we spent her last birthday together. April 17, 2012. She was 85.  I saw her last on Father’s Day that year. When I visited, she was alert and happy, more lucid than she’d been in months. She seemed excited saying that my dad would be stopping by to pick her up and take her home. 

She was gone before dawn on Tuesday. 


Please help me support Mercy Home for Boys & Girls with my 60th Birthday Fundraiser.  I will be running the United Airlines NYC Half on March 16th. This will be Half Marathon #54. My goal is to reach Half Marathon #60 before the end of the year. Please help me stay motivated, and make sure the children of Mercy Home are provided the care they need. To learn more about Mercy Home and my why, please visit my fundraising page. Thank you.

Three Steps to Summer Wellness (that I attribute to my mom)

Three Steps to Summer Wellness (that I attribute to my mom)

My mother always said the three ingredients that made a successful summer were 1. read a good book, 2. take a long walk, and 3. make a new friend. So, since I was very small, those were my summer goals. Now every summer about this time, I like to check in with Mom to see how I’m doing.

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Put your oxygen mask on first

Put your oxygen mask on first

This is a bit of a follow-up to last week’s post. That post, shared on our town’s Moms FaceBook page garnered the most views for anything I’ve posted for this blog. I am grateful for that. Thank you for sharing. When I started writing about mental health about a year after my husband’s death, it was my desire to help open more eyes and ears to something that deserves so much more attention.

Another post in the last week on that moms page which got a lot of attention got me thinking about how the standards to which we hold ourselves and each other can be quite harmful to our mental health. The post (for those of you not following along) was from a mom of younger – I assumed elementary school-age children – who was fed-up with the speed at which one particular teenager was driving down her residential street.  This of course would be a concern to any mom whether coming from the perspective of a parent of small children whose safety was in jeopardy or the parent of the teenager who may be speeding. Had that post stated the issue and then maybe something along the lines of if any knows who this is, please tell them to slow down, the safety of all our children is at stake! the response probably would have been all positive. Instead the post was addressed to “the parents of the teen” and concluded with the line Get your kid under control!!!!

The blame evoked in that post got under my skin. And instead of leaving well-enough alone I responded; I believe, as diplomatically as possible.  I said something like, I understand your concern, no one should be speeding on any street in our town, but to hold the parents of  a “child” of driving age responsible is wrong. There comes a time when young adults need to take responsibility for their own actions and at that age, parents have little control over what their teens do. To this she called me a failure as a parent. And I told her we should plan to chat again when her children were teenagers. The thread continued with many other moms weighing in. I can’t tell you anything that was said exactly because the original post and long thread of comments that followed has since been removed. Yes, it got that bad.

Let’s first talk about the expectation we – mothers – set for ourselves. We want to do everything right for our kids and if we perceive that they are falling short somewhere along the way, we often take the blame. We put enormous pressure on ourselves.  At the same time we are trying to raise our children to become successful adults, we are also trying to have satisfying marriages, running a household, managing the care of aging parents, and maybe even trying to balance a successful career. That’s a lot. And when a number of those areas aren’t working out quite as well as we planned. It gets frustrating. And depressing. Our mental health is in jeopardy. We need to give ourselves – and each other – a break and stop blaming, criticizing, and judging, or allowing ourselves to be.

That’s why I couldn’t leave well enough alone and not respond to that post. I was thinking about moms who were dealing with things far worse than speeding, and not wanting them to feel that in anyway they were to blame, As the parent of a 17-year-old, I now conclude that how our children turn out has as much to do with luck as great parenting. Like we can only take so much credit for the success of our children, we can only accept so much of the blame. 

I didn’t always see it that way though. I remember how not long ago I was that mom – the mom of a 11 year-old with good grades and perfect attendance, who loved school, was interested in attending Princeton or Yale, and was a finalist in the DARE essay contest. I was certain I knew how to raise a child; thought I’d have those teenage years covered and my kid – through my example and exemplary parenting skills – would be perfect.  I secretly judged other parents who were struggling, and imagined what they must be doing wrong. But before my husband and I could finish patting ourselves on the back, life quickly changed.  Seventh grade happened. And I began to learn that 1) these kids have free will, 2) we only have so much control, and 3) we can’t protect them from everything. And that’s okay.

As our children grow up, our perspective as parents change. Everything I experienced as a cancer survivor and losing my husband to suicide changed my perspective too. I don’t judge the way I used to. I now understand that everyone is dealing with challenges in their own homes and in their own bodies and in their own minds that the rest of us know nothing about. And sometimes we are simply ignorant, unable to see beyond our own perspective at that moment. I have learned as a coach that we are all – our children included – naturally creative, resourceful and whole. We’ll figure this out.

But let’s take care of ourselves – our own mental health – first. It’s like they say during the flight safety demonstration, ” If you are travelling with a child or someone who requires assistance, secure your mask first, and then assist the other person.” Especially as parents, we are no good to our children if we don’t first take care of ourselves – eat right, exercise, de-stress as much as possible. That way we have as much energy and as much mental capacity to deal with everything the kids are going to throw at us. Sometimes even still, that’s a tall order. 

We’ve heard it a million times, parenting is the most difficult job we will ever have — and we often have to do it while we deal with our own insecurities, limited perspective, other stressors coming at us from several different directions. All while under the watchful gaze of other parents who think they can do it better. Have you ever looked through a bookstore for a parenting book? Have you seen the number of often contradictory subjects? Do you know why this is? Because we are all unique. Every parent. Every child. There is no one size fits all solution that will work for everyone. We have to find what works best for us.

Remember in my last post when I said, “as if parenting wasn’t a gray hair creating, anxiety producing fiasco that constantly left me in a state of self-doubt already”? Well, I (we all!) don’t need other parents adding to that self-doubt. We need to support one another. We need to approach our relationships with other parents from the perspective of a coach – that everyone is naturally creative, resourceful and whole. Sure we need to look out for each others kids, and talk amongst ourselves to solve problems and discover solutions when there are issues facing our community or our children. But we must work together. Blame, criticism, judgement, and unsolicited advice doesn’t help anyone. 

Most importantly, take care of yourself. We all have the strength we need within ourselves. To find the answers that are right for you and your family, look no further than yourself. Stop listening to everyone else. Trust your instincts, your intuition, yourself. And a journey of self-discovery starts with a clear head. When you’re feeling the heat; get out of the kitchen. Walk away. Get off FaceBook. Meditate. Go for a run. Walk in the woods. Make an appointment with a therapist. Hire a coach. Practice the self-care that works for you. Solving the mental health crisis that I spoke about last week starts with us.

IMG_6338Ramapo Valley County Reservation. Mahwah, New Jersey. April 2017