How do you make Christmas special for someone stuck in the hospital, just informed they had a life threatening disease and separated from her husband of 29 years? This was the dilemma before me.
We had planned on entertaining my husband’s family for Christmas. Although the family said they understood and could cancel the dinner, I knew my husband always looked forward to the dinner and I did not want to disappoint him. Dinner on!
I planned the menu and calculated time to cook and time to “reheat”. My husband is as far as anyone could be from the galloping gourmet. On one occasion, I had come home from work with a migraine. Bobby told me to go take a nice hot bath and lay down. This was my normal remedy for the migraine headaches that plagued me for most of the first half of life. I had fallen asleep for a few minutes and woke to the sound of pots and pans clinging in the kitchen. It then comes to me that my husband is “cooking”. The thought alone shot images of black smoke and the fire department outside our house. Feeling much better, I jumped up and wondered into the kitchen where Bobby was sitting watching t-v.
“Hey! How ya feel?” Bobby said.
“Better. Ughhhhh, whats ya doin?” I said scanning the kitchen for an open flame.
“I’m makin myself somthin to eat.” Bobby said holding his attention to the t-v.
“What are you making?” I asked seeing no food items out.
With a great deal of confidence, Bobby said “Chicken!”
My eyes rested on the oven door. “Chicken? I didn’t have any chicken pulled out of the freezer.” I walked to the oven which was set for 300 degrees and opened the door. There in the oven sat one frozen chicken thigh on a pie tin. With the oven door still opened I turned to Bobby who was looking at me with innocence. I said “I think your chicken dinner will be ready in about six hours.” I then started laughing so hard, my migraine nearly came back. Bobby just glared at me in jest.
We had already celebrated Christmas because of the unpredictable weather of the North Country in New York so we had exchanged gifts at Thanksgiving. When Mom was transported down here, she did not bring anything with her so Christmas shopping all over again was easy but I had to work fast. I bought her some night gowns, slippers, a terry cloth robe, personal care items, a deck of cards, body lotions, a pocket date book (which later is helping me to recall specific events), pens, notebook, and an electronic solitaire game. I also bought a one foot plug in Christmas tree with lights at Rite Aid. On Christmas Eve, I decorated Mom’s room extra décor I had at home, put up her tree and placed the wrapped gifts around the little tree. I did give her some of things ahead of time as she needed them immediately. As I decorated, the nurses outside were hustling patients expeditiously to the elevator trying to get people home for the holidays. Some nurses congregated at the nurses’ station chatting about their holiday plans with their families and nibbling on Christmas cookies given by patients and their families.
“Could you bring cookies or something for the nurses tomorrow Tammy? I feel bad they have to work on the holiday and they are so nice.” Mom was also sensitive to others and wanted to do for them.
I had dinner prep figured out and ready to implement and I could spend most of the day with Mom. The only other detail was my Step Father, Frank. At 76 years old, Frank had mellowed out in his senior years but still posed “quirks”.
In my younger years, I truly disliked Frank. He was not physically abusive to my Mother but I may question psychologically and verbally. He seemed to gain pleasure when he mocked her weight, attacked her beliefs or yelled about something she did. I would sit there and glance at my Mother who would display facial hurt perpetuated by her need to please him. He angered me and we would fight. Mom nearly divorced him when I was younger because of my resistance to the marriage. In my senior year of High School, I had abandoned my anger and now looked to the future away from the house and from him.
After college, I moved to Schenectady, NY and had a small apartment. Bobby and I had started dating November 1986. On Thanksgiving Day, I was supposed to be on my way north to have dinner with my Mother and Frank but Bobby and I were together and did not want to separate. I called once before I left to say I was going to be late. I made the three hour trip and was over an hour and a half late. I walked into the kitchen.
“Where in hell have you been?” Frank exploded.
“I called I was going to be late!” I bellowed back.
Frank returned “Your Mother has been cooking all morning and has been worried.”
There were a few other words in there I cannot recall or for whatever reason, I have blocked them from my memory. I do remember saying as I walked back out the door I had just come through “I’m 20 years old and an adult. I don’t have to stand here and take your shit anymore.” And with that, I drove three hours back to Schenectady. When I got home, I called Mom and apologized for my behavior. That was the last time Frank would yell at me.
Even though Frank had mellowed out with age, he now had a few other issues including just having a pace maker in two weeks prior. Not only was he uncomfortable with being in places he did not know, he refused to drive in cities. That includes Albany. Understanding his fears and Mom wanted him near by, Bobby and I started working on a plan to get him here to support Mom. Albany Medical Center is located near The Albany Veterans Administration Hospital. Right in front of the hospital is “Fisher House”. Fisher House is a program that supports veterans and their families in times of need. That would include a place to stay. I would present Frank with choices. He could stay with us and either Bobby or I could drop him off at the hospital and pick him up in the afternoon. Or, he could stay at Fisher House and walk to the hospital (or a cab). We would drive to get him and take back north. Frank refused all of the above.
Even now for Christmas, he was permitting his fears to stop him from being with his sick wife to support her. I felt anger over his weakness. Once again, he is hurting her. He was abandoning her when she needed him the most.
Christmas 2005 is a true gift in my heart. I brought in the Christmas cookies I promised her for the nurses. She got in her wheelchair and I placed the cookies on her lap and wheeled her to the nurses’ station. I enjoyed seeing her face light up as she handed the cookies to the nurses. Back in her room, Mom (who was active into her induction chemo now) opened all of her gifts. Mom started crying. I sat next to her on the bed, stroked her head and kissed her on the forehead and said “this will be the most memorable Christmas I have ever had Mom. The Christmas Mom and I had at Albany Medical Center in Albany, NY. We’re going to beat this Mom. Whatever it takes, we are going to fight.” I had never felt stronger and more optimistic than I did at that point.
She stopped crying and nodded her head.
Later that day when I got home, I cried. It was now apparent being the only child. It was just me (with Bobby’s support) and I needed to stay positive, diligent with her treatment plan and focus on doctor’s orders to get Mom through this. The roles had officially reversed and I was my Mother’s caregiver. That would be the last time I would cry for 10 months.
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