The case of the burnt cookie and a season of loss

Everyday domestic disasters can throw off the elderly

This morning Mom wanted a little treat after breakfast—a woman after my own heart. So, she put a frozen cookie in the microwave and accidentally programmed in one-too-many digits. From upstairs, I smelled something burning but thought it was just toast, which would have been a pretty normal mistake. 

When I investigated, however, I found Mom very upset and apologetic. She was so sorry for having burned the cookie and the plastic food protector and for having filled the house with a terrible smell. But she was far more upset that she’d made such a “dumb mistake,” as she put it. The poor thing was literally in tears and couldn't stop emotionally flogging herself.

Getting old is not easy. From my vantage point, the last part of a person’s life is not really a “golden” time. It is a season of loss. 

Elderly people lose their ability to think and move about easily; they lose their friends and companions; and, as they move into care facilities, they sometimes have to lose their homes and life possessions. But after having lived with my mother for a couple of months now, I think one of the most difficult challenges for the aged is losing their identity. Even if they can remember some of the "touchdown passes" of their glory days, when they become disabled, incontinent, or just forgetful, they have a hard time claiming that identity. 

At one time in my mom’s life, burned food, flooded floors, and countless other domestic disasters were part and parcel of her job as a homemaker. But back then she took all those things in stride. She had to. She had too many other things she had to get done. Today she struggles to give herself credit for past accomplishments. Instead, now one little mistake can define her, which not only can ruin her day but also crush her feelings of self-worth.

Taking good care of the elderly includes so much more than tending to their physical needs. 

Now, one of the things Mom can't always do for herself is recall and reclaim the creative, organized, efficient person she once was. Even though she can’t do much of what she did in her prime, she is still that person inside. She's still the girl who once outran the boys and got straight A's. She's still the mother who once did mounds of laundry and kept a huge house clean without hired help. She's still the woman who once taught interesting lessons and wrote clever plays and poems with ease. She's still the wife who supported her husband through ten years of schooling and worked as his office help. 

My mother is so much more than meets the eye today. Yet, she sometimes needs my help remembering those things. For all the wins she’s had in her life, it's just not right to let her beat herself up over an occasional loss.