Hello, it’s Steve again. In my previous post, I left you with the passing of my stepfather, Taras.

As I mentioned, he dieed in January of 2020. Looking back, my mother and I agreed that this was a kind of blessing in disguise. When COVID shut everything down in March, we looked at each other and said how blessed we felt that Taras did not have to endure the isolation that went with the lock-downs. Although Luther Home remained virus free, it had, of course, to shut its doors to visitors as did everyone else. It was easy for us to imagine Taras’ state of mind. He would have been frantic when we didn’t show up for our daily visit. He would not have understood the constraints which were forced upon us all. He was a very social man, being alone was hellish for him, and despite his growing dementia, he watched the clock in anticipation of our arrival, and if my mother in particular was even a few minutes late, he would point it out. I can’t imagine the despair he would have fallen into. It would have driven him insane. I think if his heart had not given out in January, the isolation, the loneliness, not being able to see my mother would have taken him at a time when his spirits could not have been lower.

COVID also led to me taking my retirement. The bookstore where I was then only working part-time hours had to shut down, and the only way for the store to continue was to cut staff levels to a minimum. I graciously took my leave, with the general expectation that I might return in six to eight weeks when everything returned to normal. An expectation as it turned out that was a little too optimistic.

Before Taras died and while he was still in long-term at the Luther Home, I asked my mother to move in with me. That was in May of 2019. By then we had already decided to sell the house. With two floors and a full basement, (laundry room, bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen, all on different floors) there was no way she could live there alone. We realized Taras would not be coming home ever again. Even with the help of Home Care, my mother would not have been able to look after him. His fantasies about coming home broke our hearts. His plans were elaborate and involved me sneaking him out of the Home where he could return to his former life and live out his days in contentment.

With the decision to sell the house, my mother needed somewhere to live. I was reluctant, however, to ask her to move in with me because I live in a one bedroom condo on the third floor with no elevator, which meant she would have to climb two flights of stairs and sleep in the living room on a pull-out bed. I didn’t think she would go for that, but after looking at a few alternatives, which had left her feeling dispirited, I put the question to her. “If I didn’t live on the the third floor, you know you could move in with me.” Her face lit up and she said she would absolutely love to move in with me. We did a test of her ability to climb the stairs (she passed with flying colours, with the help of her walking stick) and checked out how we would allocate the available space. It was a done deal.

I continued working part-time until I was sidelined by COVID. Now home all day everyday, I realized how frail my mother had become, especially in the morning. She struggled to get out of bed, for instance, and I didn’t realize how lonely she was. So as well as being chief cook and bottle washer, I took on the role as companion. We spent many happy days that summer going to the nearby Kildonan Park. Her spirits revived in the sun, and I realized I was not going to go back to work and leave her alone again for any extended periods of time. I was, in fact, asked to come back to the bookstore to work any hours I wanted, and although I appreciated the call-back I had to decline.

And so there we were, my mother and I, getting along pretty well, until one morning I got up to find her packing her bags. She was under the impression we were at her sister’s in England and we had to a catch a train. She didn’t say to where. It turned out she had had a small stroke.

But more of that later.

“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.” – Dolly Parton