A Good Enough Daughter
As a professional in the field of aging, Sara had seen it all—until her own mother broke her hip at the age of 88 and became profoundly confused, unable to live in her own home. Join Sara on her journey through the strangeness that is dementia while trying to make sense of it all and finding humor in the details. [Editor's note: Sara no longer contributes to Silver Planet, but we have made her archived blog entries available as a service to our readers.]
Family Funerals: The Good, the Bad, and the Wacky
My mother’s sister Babe and sister-in-law Dorothy died this month. I went to both services, one in Phoenix and one in San Francisco. The services were both fine. Loving and appropriate sentiments were expressed by the rabbi and exchanged among family members. But the range of behaviors, outside of the formal settings, was really the most interesting part of both funeral weekends.
My friend Kathy is a saint. I’m sure we all know someone like her: good to a fault, kind and generous, always there when you need someone. She provided ground zero for Aunt Babe’s family: a place to sleep and congregate. My usually levelheaded 59-year-old cousin stayed with Kathy.
My cousin had a very difficult relationship with her mother and her brother, Aunt Babe’s caregiver. I guess the funeral put my cousin over the emotional edge because she wasn’t the person I know. We have a good relationship, but she went off on me—something about never letting her express herself. It was strange.
The scene in San Francisco was even more odd. I attended a very nice reception at a favorite San Francisco restaurant. My 91-year-old uncle and his family, my first cousins, were all in attendance, along with lots of my aunt’s friends and family, including my uncle’s stepson. When he shook my hand (I had never met him before), he wouldn’t let go of it.
I know about aging-related stuff, so I commented to the stepson on how cognitively intact my uncle is. That’s when he began talking about how my uncle had backed out of a business deal with him a few days before and how someone now needs to manage his affairs. Then he adds, now that his mother left her share of the condo (in which my uncle is still living) to him, he thinks it’s time to sell the condo and for my uncle to move into a “more appropriate setting.” Can you imagine? My aunt, this person’s mother, had been dead about two weeks. My poor uncle was still in shock, but the stepson couldn’t wait to get his hands on the money.
It’s been a very unusual month indeed. I don’t know which of my aunts or uncles will die next. They are all pretty old. I will definitely try to attend the funerals. It’s family drama at its best.
By Sara Myers
The Good Enough Daughter Blog
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