Life Cycle

My dad passed away in July of 2010, and his death came quickly, nearly out of nowhere. He was suffering from a recurrence of prostrate cancer that had moved into his bones, but he was managing his pain and present to his family members. All of a sudden he developed pneumonia like symptoms and needed to be hospitalized. His breathing became more and more labored and during the night after he was admitted, he took his final breath. His passing occurred at the relatively young age of 75, and he was gone before I ever came to perceive him as an “old man.”

My mother has outlived her deceased spouse by 15 years and is now on the verge of her 90th birthday (1/30/2026). It has been five years since she moved into an independent living facility and just over a year since she transferred into assisted living. In the meantime, she has suffered two strokes that significantly impacted her cognitive and language processing centers. In a vivid contrast to my father, I have had a front row seat to observe the slow burn of aging and have had plenty of time to reflect on the cycle or circle of life that inevitably brings us all to the moment of final departure.

I would like to believe that some of the things that I have observed will be useful in my own journey, but it is impossible to know whether that process will be more like my dad’s, my mom’s or something else entirely:

• Based on observation, I think the gradual loss of autonomy and personal freedom is the hardest betrayal of an aging body to accept. Driving, shopping, attending music concerts, going to church, eating out, traveling, gardening, walking the dog, quilting, … all activities pursued by my mom on a regular basis have gradually been stripped away due to the onset of physical and mental frailties. The days of a spontaneous trip to the market, a jaunt to pop in on a friend or take a stroll along the river path are frustratingly out of reach given real and self-perceived limitations. Even tasks we take for granted, like showering and dressing, become daily struggles that sap energy and force an awkward reliance on others to provide assistance. This can be a particularly bitter pill for the individuals who are stubbornly self-reliant and once proudly independent. My mom was given a pendant with a button that she can push anytime for any reason if assistance is wanted or needed. Yet, for her, each press is a painful reminder of the loss of agency and her failing health.
• Technology and its rapid advances are not your friend. It is a constant reminder of your incompetence and inability to understand how to make these tools work to your advantage. My mom struggles to manage the remotes that control her lift chair, adjustable bed, TV and BOSE CD player. The functions of all the different buttons defy understanding and her stiff fingers make it nearly impossible to press the correct ones. Fortunately, mom can still answer and place a phone call and execute the correct series of clicks to connect with the church service she likes to stream. Instead of the anticipation and thrill that people experience with an upgrade or enhancement to an e-device or e-service, changes to the way you are used to doing things can become a confusing nightmare. All of this leaves me wondering where and when my own tipping point will come. What will be the vital “technological advance” that leaves me behind with items from the dustbin of outdated tech?
• Quality of life depends on maintaining a connection with life. The assisted living facility where my mom lives offers a myriad of activities each day, but few, if any, hold interest for her because of the effort it takes to get up, get dressed and simply navigate the hallways and floors of the residence. Counting the hours between meals, listening to CNN anchors regurgitate the news cycle and putting up with the interruptions and ministrations of staff and visitors who intend well but end up causing a bother, translates into world weary living. The present is a shadow of the vibrant, engaged life that my mom once enjoyed. Without a willingness to engage the activities at Waterford Grand and to make personal connections in the process, my mom’s world has grown increasingly smaller and smaller and, unfortunately, less interesting and compelling.

Rachel Stirling, daughter of Diana Rigg, was quoted in The Guardian saying that the, “End of life is not for wimps.” Perhaps aside from the lucky few that pass in their sleep or die instantly in some way, the rest of us are likely to face an end where life lingers in the balance for days, weeks or months. Having any measure of bodily control, wakefulness, presence of mind or ability to express ones thoughts or emotions is not guaranteed. Regardless, the love, thoughts, prayers and physical presence of many will surround and hopefully lift us up. It helps me immensely to know that my mom is at peace and ready to accept closure of the life cycle.