Filling the Silence

There is not a lot of calm in my life. Someone is always talking, whining, singing, bickering, interrupting, playing, reading, crying, complaining, yelling, laughing.  I live a blessed but noisy life.  In a way, I think it propels us forward, some sort of soundtrack to our daily routine. This past Thanksgiving, I picked up my mother to celebrate the holiday at our home.  It had been a long time since she had left her nursing home.  I can recite a number of reasons for that.  It is not particularly close by.  She seems more comfortable in her own space.  Now there are incontinence issues.  While all that is true, another reason, and one of which I am not proud, is that it is easier on me to visit her and then leave.  We can look at her pictures and talk about who everyone is.  Sometimes, we call a friend or family member, after she recognizes him or her from a photo and smiles fondly.  We share a snack with the kids.  We sit outside on nice days.  Then we say goodbye and hug, after I initiate it, and a staff member taps in a code to allow us to exit, leaving Nana behind until the next time we visit. After consultation with my mother’s caregivers, we determined that it would be appropriate to take my mother to my home...

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