I will write about preparing for a loved one's funeral - something we can all do, even though there may be no pending death in the family. There is so little time to do much in the short hectic days after a loved one passes.
The day after my father died, we were still busy advising friends and family, and we had a meeting with the funeral director. Dad had not wanted to have a church service - he was very supportive of mum's church involvement, but thought it would be hypocritical to have a religious ceremony. All arrangements were made for a service at Centenial Park - with the Funeral Celebrant from the Funeral Home that dad had listed. We were so happy with everything with the Celebrant - except one thing. We certainly underestimated the numbers that would attend the service. Over the weekend when we further contemplated the numbers, we were scared the small Mawson Chapel would be too small. But we could not change it. We had calls from people who had seen the death notice in the paper, with messages of support and advice that they would attend the service. We had been told that it was a Pennants day at bowls, so though the bowls contingent would not be large. As it turned out it was not Pennants day, and friends and family came from interstate. Older folk that we thought might have difficulty attending came - with carers, and the whole event was much much bigger than we imagined.
We had worked out the ceremony with various family members speaking - and I was 'thrown in' at the last minute, though I had written down some things to say. All of Dad's 4 grandchildren attended and spoke at the service, my son sang "Amazing Grace' and two great grandchildren spoke.
One thing that we had not contemplated was having to witness that the body was indeed that of our father. He was done up so well, in his suit, with his glasses on. While it was emotional to see him like that, he looked peaceful and proud.
Afterwards we met a sea of family and friends, many of whom I did not know or recognise. Being from interstate I seldom see family members, so to meet up with some I had not set eyes on for some 40 years was extra ordinary.
One woman asked me if I remembered her - but I didn't. It was my little friend from next door - whom I had not seen since 1963!!! She had her father had travelled a long way to be there. I was quite overwhelmed.
We had tea and biscuits at Centennial Park, and some of the close family went to my sister's place and had a few drinks for dad too.
We had told mum about the death of her husband of over 60 years, but made a decision that she should not go to the service. It was a hard one to make, but we do think we did the wise thing. She is not exactly grasping the whole situation, and we thought it would be too difficult for her.
I returned to Adelaide, where my father's health continued to decline. He was in a small nursing home, in respite, but with hopes to go to another. He'd set his heart on this home, but had not put in place the process to get there - in part due to his fear of losing his money, and refusal to accept the consequences of ageing. But he had done volunteer work there - as a member of the Brighton Lions Club, and was well known in the area.
As a family we found the machinations of dealing with government agencies, nursing homes etc etc to be quite a minefield. There seemed to be mounds of paperwork to complete, and misinformation from all directions. We'd get a letter saying "a" would happen, and then a phone call that said that was not the case, but that "b" would occur. We felt there was hositilities or at least misunderstandings between hospital/nursing homes. Nothing went smoothly. I wonder how traumatised people would become dealing with all of this.
Bit by bit - we moved onward through the mire, trying to accept the confusion of it all. It was not helped by the fact that daughter number one was in Brisbane, daughter number 2 was in Adelaide but worked full time, and found dealing with the bureacracy of it all too much to handle. And it was.
My mother is in a nursing home, and dealing with her and the issues surrounding father were difficult too. Should we tell her? What do we tell her? What will be the consequences of telling her.
It was the day that he died that we had told her that he was sick. As I write this, we have yet to tell her of his passing.
For the most part everyone we have dealt with in the hospitals has been caring - but the manner that some of the 'admin' people have spoke to us has been somewhat off putting. I won't go into it right now, but there are a lot of 'assumptions' - resulting in confusion.
One has little choice but to take a deep breath and plunge onward through it all - for the sake of the loved one.
The cost of it all - in money and emotional is high. But should it be all so traumatic for the family? Surely not.
I left Adelaide on July 1st - just 10 days ago, knowing that I may not see my father alive. At the time he was determined to live on, and as he can do, he fought hard, but it is not to be.
I have booked to go back tomorrow morning - and the chances I will be alive are slim. He has told my sister he is ready to go. It has been very distressing for her and her daughter and son, and we are all somewhat fragile.
My daughter and her children are still going to Adelaide on Thursday, but he has asked that the children not see him. He wants them to remember him in the 'good times.'
We are of the opinion not to tell my mother - whose dementia is such that she is unaware of what is going on outside the walls of her haven - the nursing home.
She does not even comment on not seeing her husband of over 60 years - she thinks he comes every two or three days, and now it is more like four weeks since he has seen her. Even when we visit, she is wonderful, but she forgets we came, soon after. It is hard for everyone but she is doing well physically, and we may not tell her anything of the events.
I think too of the fact that as one of the last of a large family - he is the 'last one standing' so to speak - and even cousins are too fragile health wise to attend his farewell - his funeral. His friends have passed too. There are few left. Strange really, and that his wife will not be there either.
He's lived a long and fruitful life, but it is almost over.
We are so proud of our parents (my sister and I) as they have had (until recent times) a good long life. Certainly had its challenges at times, but they are stoic and determined and have done pretty well.
But in their declining years, the challenges really make life difficult. Mum is physically fit, but dementia has claimed her. She now lives in a nursing home, completely happy as all is done for her, and she lives our days out doing very little, but considering herself very busy working for the government. She told me a few days ago that she was at the races at nearby Seacliff racetrack (there may have been a racetrack there, but it would have been 70 years ago), and that she was telling someone (her grand daughter) that she was pregnant. (We've had a good laugh at that - even she thought it was funny.)
Dad on the other hand, who was until a few weeks ago living in their unit right next door to the nursing home, was mentally alert, but physically going down hill. He's weathered cancer and complications from the medication, but in the end it was more depression, and his heart that made it impossible to continue living at home.
He has had several 'heart attacks' and is clearly depressed - and other than make him as comfortable as possible, there is little else that can be done. He is 92 in a couple of weeks time.
He has been in and out of hospital for the last three weeks and keen to go to a nursing home - though not to the one where mother is. There was a vacant bed next to mum, but we knew that constant bickering would get them both 'down'. Dad always argues with mum - as he contradicts her, and tell her that the stories she relates are not true. Result? Massive tension between the two.
While many who know dad consider that mentally he is ok - well, he is to some degree, and you can have a more sensible conversation with him, than with mum, but he repeats himself over and over and over, and is in denial about his situation. Despite the advice he's been given he can never allow mum to talk about the fantasy life she is living. The disputes are uncomfortable to witness.
His preferred aged care home has no vacancy, and he had to be discharged from the hospital, so after much 'mucking around' we found a bed for him, quite close to where he has lived most of his life, and consequently not far from his shrinking circle of friends.
When I saw it the other day I saw quite a few reasonable alert people around, and was assured that the were some guys who were mentally alert, but he's already depressed about the place. He saw all the 'oldies' sitting in their wheelchairs watching television, and he and my sister have agreed that it is not suitable for him.
OMG! As one that has been frequently in these places as a visitor and as an aged care trainer in the past, I saw the establishment as one of the best I have seen. It was relatively new, open and clean and surrounded by gardens.
All Dad and my sister have seen is the old people - and dad doesn't want to associate with them. In fact he doesn't have to but he might be there for several weeks, or even months until there is a vacancy.
The reality is that dad is declining, and fairly fast if he does not manage to 'pull himself out of it' - and the depression is what is causing the problem.
He cannot accept that his longevity, along with his health issues, renders him pretty much like the others in such places. He sees himself (and it is not snobbery as such) as being better than the others. He doesn't see the old man that he is.
Well, I am back in Brisbane. I did all I could do in the five days I had in Adelaide, and I'd love to have done more but it was a rush to do everything as it was.
I am sure the fear of his days ending sometime soon, is what is behind the depression, and he worries about our mother, who is incredibly comfortable where she is. Family members will continue to keep visiting them.
We will try to do the best for them both. It is hard on everyone - and especially them, although mum worries not about it. Dad is (and always has been) the worrier.
