Dr. Rich
Arrested Development
Our family is currently dealing with a parent that has just lost her right to drive and is failing in her ability to live alone. She is 82 and has always lived alone. She has been very independent all her life and that is falling away for her right now. The relative in my wife's mother. As I try to stay in the background and be a support for her when dealing with siblings, it is difficult to watch the anguish on her face. One of the decisions that her family is now wrestling with is whether to put her in a care facility. This is not a convalescent home or rest home but rather a facility where she won't have to cook or clean and they have planned activities for her.
A friend of mine send me an e-mail yesterday with this short story in it and I thought, what timing. It moved me and I wanted to share it with you who have parents or loved ones that are starting to falter.
The Wooden Bowl....
Tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year - old grandson.
The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.
The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and
Failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor.
When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess.
"We must do something about father," said the son.
"I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor."
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.
There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.
Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.
When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone.
Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence.
One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor.
He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded,
"Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.
" The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless.
Then tears started to stream down their cheeks.
Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table.
For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason,
Neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
A friend of mine send me an e-mail yesterday with this short story in it and I thought, what timing. It moved me and I wanted to share it with you who have parents or loved ones that are starting to falter.
The Wooden Bowl....
Tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year - old grandson.
The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.
The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and
Failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor.
When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess.
"We must do something about father," said the son.
"I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor."
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.
There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.
Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.
When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone.
Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence.
One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor.
He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded,
"Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.
" The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless.
Then tears started to stream down their cheeks.
Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table.
For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason,
Neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
