|
Breaking Promises
by: Matt "Three Thing Thursday"
SOMETHING I DID --
I wish I didn't. But I did.
Again. And again. And yet again.
I didn't know what I didn't know in those moments and it didn't feel as though there were any other options.
So I promised Mom that I'd never 'put her in a home' (her words, not mine).
It started out innocently enough. Mom and I standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes one Christmas when it went something like this:
MOM: Matthew, you need to promise me that you'll never put me in a home
ME: ...
MOM: Promise. me.
ME: Laughs it off and pulls her in for a side-hug and kiss. Of course not, Mom.
She was half joking but there was a noticeable thread of I'm serious woven through Mom's words,
tone, and facial expression. I still haven't forgotten it.
That was the first time. A second, third, and fourth would follow. And as time went on, the half-joking part was gone. Mom was serious and I told her what she wanted to hear. Every time. Because I meant it. Don't worry Mom, I won't ever do that.
Talk about a bell that I couldn't un-ring. Had I known then what I know now, I might've tried to approach my response this way:
1. Assure Mom that I love her, we love her, and will always take care of her.
2. Make clear that care could come in lots of different ways depending on what life throws at us--
but *again*, I'll always be there with her.
3. Lastly, I'd try my best to use these moments as a wedge into a broader conversation about the
future, her wants and wishes etc.
Now having said all of that, what's that they say about best-laid plans? Exactly.
When dementia came knocking for Mom, we had decisions to make. She was a widow, I'm an only child, and it was no longer feasible for her to live independently on her own. There were safety concerns and as importantly to me, Mom was becoming more and more isolated. She refused to live with us for various reasons and my attempts to change her mind failed consistently.
All of which left me with only one option. Breaking my promise. It was awful. Yet it had to be done.
And we survived. More than survived actually.
Because friends who had been through it helped me see that while I was technically breaking the promise, that was outweighed by two very, very, important facts: I'd made the promise in good faith.
And...I was still living up to the spirit of the promise.
I dismissed this assertion out-of-hand at first. The vicious strain of guilt that was coursing through my veins was too strong. But my friends stayed with it (I'm endlessly thankful for this) and helped me see what they were saying for what it was. Truth.
I told Mom what I told her because I meant it. I'd always they be there for her.
I'd always try, my best, to do what's best for her (spoiler: it looks different for everybody). And I was. And I did.
It just so happened to be that, what was best for Mom, was her living under a different roof.
Even if I had to "break" my promise.
| 
