Silent night

It has been an ex-wife sort of day, cold and bitter.

I was talking to a lawyer yesterday about a case I watched him argue. I told him how shocked I was that his client, who was on attacked by opposing counsel while on the stand, did not have any other way to defend himself. The case itself was based on the mistreatment of a woman who was suffering from Alzheimers, which is a disease that I watched destroy my own mother. What I saw in the courtroom was disturbing to me because basically what the attack was based on was that the attorney wanted to paint the witness as a son who did not really care about his ailing mother.

Yesterday I told the witnesses lawyer that what I would have like to have seen was someone testify as to what happens when you watch your parent slowly fading in front of your eyes. The mother or father who raised you, scolded you, fed you, paid you bills and often loved you, forgets your name. It is heart breaking. When my own mother was losing her mind, I tried to visit her everyday. At that time in my life I was writing in the evenings and I had plenty of day time to ride my bike to the elder facility where my mother lived. I visited a lot. There were plenty of older people who did not have visitors, or had few visits. I never viewed that as something that was wrong with the families, some lived in other states, some worked and had families and some probably could not watch as their parents slowly died.

You ever watch someone mourn the loss of a loved one? I have, a few times. Some people cry and fall into depression and I had one friend who got drunk a lot, some people don't seem bothered at all, they may internalize it, they may not be bothered, who knows? The point is that there is no right or wrong in mourning, it is an individual thing. Some people just do not get emotional, and there is nothing wrong with that.

That same sense of understanding is what I have adopted in viewing the way people care, or don't care, about their elderly family members. It is very hard for some people to watch their own parents dying. Again, I do not think there is a right way. One of my brothers never came to visit my mother in the 8 years she was slowly dying. Another member of my family visited once. I did not think that was right or wrong, it just was. To this day I think it was the way they dealt with the way the Alzheimers was affecting our mother and they did what the could.

What I told the attorney was there needs to be a spokesman for families who are painted as some sort of uncaring and cold ingrates. The son I watched being torn apart on the witness stand needed a defense. He needed someone who understood that he did what he could and it is painful to watch your own mother shit on herself. It hurts when your own mother does not know your name. It is remarkable to watch a strong and vital woman try and figure out how she knows you.

The attorney lost his case.

Five years ago I whispered in my mothers ear, as she lay in a hospital after suffering a near fatal stroke. I told her, as he most irresponsible child, that I was ready to carry on and she could go now, she could leave us, her pain and suffering could end. Five years ago today she found some sort of peace, as did the rest of us. It was time for her to go. We mourned in our own weird ways. We cried, we laughed, we told stories. It was wonderful, as was she.