My Mother My Child

By Susie Kinslow Adams

This easy-to-read, very personal book will help and encourage you whether you are: An adult caring for aging parents The parent of small children A professional caregiver An individual wanting to help others. Read how the author finds joy in the complex, daily demands of a caregiver. Realize you are not in this alone as you learn where and how to find help. The thought-provoking questions and insights at the end of each chapter are suitable for individual or group study. No two situations are the same, however, the basic responsibilities and standard of care will not change. Every person is entitled to adequate care and respect regardless of age or circumstance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susie Kinslow Adams
• Release date: Feb 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9780990770015

Susie Kinslow Adams

Susie Kinslow Adams is a wife, mother, and grandmother whose work alongside her husband in ministry has provided years of experience with groups and individuals from children to senior adults. Susie is a gifted author, writer, speaker and storyteller.Susie and her husband live in Buffalo, Missouri, and have a country home in the Ozarks.

Book preview

Foreword

"This is an important book. It needs to be written." I clearly remember my reaction when I read the first few pages my mom had penned. Until reading those lines that gave birth to this book, I had no idea what my mother had experienced during the eight years she cared for my Grandma. All I knew was my mom was too busy to get on a plane and come visit me. I had no concept of the long hours she worked, the life and death decisions she had to make and the emotional and physical turmoil she faced daily. I had no idea because she never once complained or let on that providing full time care for my Grandma was difficult work. My mom truly cherished each and every moment of caring for her mother.

In life and in this book my mom has taught me to love another means being committed to providing the very best possible for them, regardless of one’s personal sacrifice. The story she shares in this book demonstrates that while caring for an ailing loved one’s physical needs is important, enveloping them with affection, affirmation and encouragement brings even deeper healing, healing of the heart, healing for the one receiving care and the one giving care. I am confident in these pages, you too will learn from my mom’s strong, loving, selfless example.

Laura Adams

Founder, Photo Legacy Project

Introduction

Surely I will never have to take care of my mother when she gets old. Can you imagine what she will be like? She is so independent and quick tempered. She will be a real challenge for anyone. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t even try!

How clearly those words rang in my ears as I stood over Mother’s bed, not knowing if she would live or die. We had taken her to the emergency room after she suddenly began hemorrhaging and she was immediately admitted to the hospital. Mother had congestive heart failure and her overall health was not as good as she had led others to believe. She did not seem to have the strength or the will to fight this latest battle. The doctors said she had continued to weaken, and I should prepare for the worst.

As I watched such a strong-willed person seem to wilt before my eyes, my whole being wanted to swoop her up into my arms and rock her gently as she did me so many times. Mother was loving and nurturing, always ready to give generously to her family and friends. Never once had those harmful words come from her mouth as she faithfully cared for her aging parents and so many others.

Tears flowed freely as I stroked her brow and thought of those hurtful words and how carelessly I had uttered them. Warm drops fell on her face as I kissed her cheeks. She was entirely helpless and completely dependent on those around her for care. How could her only daughter ever have had such feelings or dare express them to someone else.

My heart broke again and again as I prayed. Lord, please forgive me for saying such a thing about her. Forgive me for my selfish attitude and my uncaring ways. And, Heavenly Father, if You let her live, I promise to care for her with all I have for as long as it takes until You see fit to take her home.

Week after week, I spent hours in prayer receiving God’s forgiveness and begging Him in His grace to allow us some time together. This was all too sudden and I was unprepared to let her go. Night and day I was at Mother’s bedside, holding her hand, stroking her forehead, and kissing her cheek. Tears flowed freely and often as I recounted precious memories from days gone by.

My husband, Russell, and I lived in California for ten years. Our short annual trips home offered little time to spend with my mother. Now, after moving back to Missouri and living two hours from her, I thought we would be able to make up for lost time. Perhaps we could go sightseeing and shopping; maybe out to eat and enjoy great times together. Watching her struggle in this hospital for her very life was not a part of my plan. Hopes and dreams shattered as life suddenly changed for all of us in ways we could not imagine.

God was merciful; after seven long weeks of ups and downs, Mother was released from the hospital and came to live with us for eight wonderful years. This book is about those years and the trials and triumphs of caring for her through the many changes that ensued. It’s about those tender truths God taught me about myself as He and I journeyed together.

This is certainly not meant to be an instruction manual to help in caring for someone. There are volumes available on the practical aspects of elder care. This book is an opportunity for me to relate openly and honestly the struggles and the victories of life with a parent who suddenly becomes your child. My intent is simply to share my heart in hopes others may relate and perhaps be helped by knowing they are not in this alone.

Miracles, Moves, and Mother

My mother always held a special place in my heart. She had made the best of a very rough life. Mother worked hard and seldom complained about anything, although there was much opportunity to do so. During the years I lived by Mother, especially after Dad died, we would spend time going out to eat or visiting some beautiful scenic place not too far from home. One of my fondest memories is of the two of us sitting on her front porch enjoying soft breezes and crisp morning air.

How could anyone ever look out at God’s creation and not know He is real? she would ask. Then she would continue to elaborate on the beauty of her surroundings. An outsider driving by would see shabby yards and small homes in need of major repair and probably complain at the rough streets. My mother could see good neighbors and beautiful flowers among the weeds. She was thankful for her comfortable home and the reliability of her very old automobile parked out front.

Mother had a sharp mind and a quick wit. She was ready with an answer for any problem one might have (and quite sure hers was the only answer to consider). Her tiny home was clean and orderly; you could count on a good pot of stew and cornbread when you stopped by for a visit.

After Russell and I moved away, I especially looked forward to coming back home to those familiar sights and sounds and hearty welcome from someone who dearly loved me. During the ten years we were in California, my visits were short and too far apart. However, I never worried about Mother’s well-being because she was active in a good church, a Bible study group, and had several other widowed friends with whom to socialize. On the surface she seemed quite self-sufficient.

I never noticed when she got old and weary; when she quit caring for her little home and herself as she once did. When I began to realize how terribly unclean her house was, I attributed it to her being too busy to keep it up. One year I made a planned trip home without Russell. I thought if I could thoroughly clean her house for her, she would be able to keep it clean. I know how it is when you get so far behind it seems impossible to catch up. As I began to clean Mother’s home one evening, my cleaning stopped abruptly when I was told, This house is clean enough for me. If it is not clean enough for you, you can just go home! Ouch!

I must admit, I think my focus was more on the unclean house than on why my mother would let it get that way. What was happening to her? Could I have done something to help her then? Perhaps get some help in each week or check with her doctor concerning her over all health and her medications? But my visit was short; whatever I could do in a week’s time would not make much of a difference in the over all picture.

The day before I was to head back to California, I drove Mother to the store in her old but faithful car. As we neared home, we were stopped by the police. He announced my tags had expired. After learning I was driving Mother’s car, he asked for her driver’s license and registration. When she couldn’t seem to find her license, the officer graciously told us to go straight home and park the car. Back home we searched the unending piles of mail and papers on her tables and found only an expired license. Wanting to help, I took Mother to take a test and get her license renewed only to learn she had lost her license due to too many traffic tickets. No driver’s license, no tags, and no insurance, yet she was still driving her car all over town.

Something wasn’t right but I had a plane to catch in the morning. What could I do at this point? How could I help her? Should I alert church friends, neighbors, and the police? If I took her car keys, she would find another set or have copies made. Anything I could have done would simply be a temporary fix until I got out of town when she would do as she pleased anyway. My heart ached as I thought of leaving. How helpless I felt.

My heart and mind were eased somewhat knowing my cousin Penny checked on Mother every few days to make sure she was okay. Penny would take Mother back home with her when she could coax her into it. While there, Penny would trim her nails, wash her hair, and stuff her full of good food and special treats. Mother enjoyed those times, but she soon pressed to get back to her own home.

One time when Penny was visiting family on the west coast, she had a persistent feeling she should come home early from her trip. Those urgings became so overwhelming that she had her flight changed and returned to Missouri a week early. She immediately called Mother and was relieved to hear her familiar happy voice assuring Penny she was okay. In fact, Mother had a Bible study planned the next day at her house, and had been very busy with all the preparations.

The following evening Penny was not too alarmed when Mother didn’t answer her phone. Perhaps, she thought, Aunt Nevie has just gone to the store for something. However, when there was no response the second day, Penny was on Mother’s doorstep. Unlocking the door, she found Mother on the floor, somewhat dehydrated.

Apparently, after the Bible study group had left, Mother sat down to rest on a low sofa instead of her usual recliner. She was short, quite heavy, and not as agile as she had thought. Realizing she could not get up from the couch on her own, Mother slid onto the floor. She was sure she would then be able turn around facing the couch and pull herself up. Once on the floor though, she had neither the strength nor the mobility to get up on her own.

Aunt Nevie, why didn’t you call someone when you couldn’t get up by yourself?

I would have called if I needed help. I was going to get up soon. In her mind, all she needed to do was rest a spell and try again. Eventually, she reasoned, she would be able to get up from the floor.

What would have happened if no one had checked on her? Suppose Penny had not followed the persistent tug of her heart to return home early? Did God bring Penny back home at just the right time to help her Aunt Nevie? She is convinced He did, and so am I.

A few months later Russell was called as Pastor of the First Baptist Church of Fair Play, Missouri and we moved back home. A few weeks after our move, Penny brought Mother to visit us and we would again see God’s timing. During her stay with us, Mother became suddenly ill, was hospitalized for the first time, and our lives changed forever. For eight years I would be the primary caregiver for my mother and, although I didn’t realize it then, would watch her slip into what we often call second childhood. Some of those years Mother communicated normally and was up and around even fixing her own lunch. Other times she would not be able to walk without help or carry on a conversation.

Mother’s life, too, changed drastically. She found herself living with her children in a strange new house and in a town she couldn’t locate on the map. Everyone who came in and out of the house was a stranger to her. Gone were the days of getting a hamburger with old friends after Bible study. Gone was her freedom to go anywhere by herself or pick up the phone and call a neighbor to come over. Only in looking back now do I recognize how very, very different life had become for Mother as well as for Russell and me.

Growing up, our home was pleasant, comfortable, and full of love, yet boundaries were clearly marked. Dad, Richard and I never pried into Mother’s affairs. As an