I’d like to tell you how fitting into the Canterbury community can be a bit like doing a crossword puzzle – at least it was for our family. When you do a crossword, you learn new words and patterns and they’re fun to do collaboratively.
It’s easy to see community connection when you step in the front door at the Court. We see a group of efficient people in charge circulating among a somewhat more diffuse group of people who appear a bit confused.
What might not be as easy to pick out right away are the people standing at the desk patiently waiting their turn to ask a question. This group belong over at the Manor. People at the Manor tend to be very capable people who are getting on in years but they can rely on their many years of experience to achieve what needs to done as independent elderly adults.
All they need is a safe community in which they can grow older.
The people at the Manor may have failing hearing or eyesight but they rely on their wealth of experience to make up for any current shortcomings.
This is where we’re going to introduce my dear old Dad. He was a commanding officer as well as an adventurer when he wasn’t at work as a doctor. He realized that my Mum, one of the ultra-capable community mothers of the 1950s was starting to fade. She was forgetting things and weird and seemingly unexplainable happenings were occurring.
Clearly Mum was unable to handle the complexities of running a house and yard. It was time to sell the family house and move to Canterbury Manor.
A New Chapter at the Manor
For 6 years, Mum and Dad enjoyed the independent living standards of the Manor.
It was much, much easier for us as a family to pick them up in the car and head to the lake cottage. All Mum and Dad needed to do was to let the neighbours know they’d be going away and turn the key in the lock to their apartment.
Living at the Manor didn’t cut into sailing in the summer and skiing in the winter – it made it one step easier.
Support and Friendship During Transitions
Time takes its toll. As our once ultra-capable parents became more frail, they needed more help. They were able to compare stories with friends who were also losing some capacity. Their friends were able to help as best they could but clearly Mum and Dad needed more help.
We arranged for Mum to have help remembering to take her pills through Home Care and as Dad’s congestive heart failure grew worse, he needed help with his elastic stockings. The Home Care aides were marvellous. I’m sure they must have wondered just what they would find when they opened the door (I know I did) but we all felt better knowing that someone was keeping an eye on a deteriorating situation.
Eventually the twice daily home visits couldn’t make up for all of the gaps that Mum and Dad were bravely trying to fill. It was time to move to the Court where they could have more help.
Despite Mum’s resistance but to Dad’s great relief, the move to the Court went smoothly. However Mum got out of bed that first morning and tripped and broke her hip. At this point the story gets wildly complicated so I’ll just cut to the chase and say that Mum went to rehab and Dad moved to the Haven. It was very much appreciated when their friends from the Manor and their health care aides from the Court stopped by to see Dad. I also suspect it was a relief to their friends at the Manor to know that if they should be in a similar situation, a smooth transition is possible.
Eventually, as Dad’s sands of time ran down and our adventurous Energizer Bunny slowed his drumbeat, Mum was released from rehab and they were allowed to be together again. By this time, Dad was in his final weeks and Mum was settling into her new room at the Court.
At one point, Dad was found, late at night, in a chair half way to Mum’s room. No one can figure out how he got so far in the few minutes he had available to him however the response of his assigned aide was touching – she apologized for this and felt responsible for letting him get away. I assured her that my Dad was a very capable man and had no doubt planned his escape down to the smallest detail.
At this point, I hope you can envision a Canadian equivalent of Steve McQueen of ‘The Great Escape’ and Major Shears of ‘Bridge on the River Kwai”. Mum can’t really remember that she was there but the rest of us know that having Mum just down the hall was a significant reason that Dad was finally able to let go.
Dad received superb and compassionate care in the Haven. We remain grateful that Dad’s passing was really a celebration of a life well lived. Not only did he receive excellent care for his physical ailments, Rev. Colleen and Sara Morin made sure his spiritual and emotional needs were met. We could not have improved on his situation. Truly this was family centered care.
Now that Mum was on her own in the Court, she tried to organize herself but her confusion led her to believe that she needed to walk to Calgary to visit her Mum. (Mum and Dad were well matched -we’re an energetic family). Somehow Mum feels that my Dad must be off on an adventure but her responsibilities to her mother remain. Along with her highly developed sense of responsibility, she’s determined not to be a bother so this is where we arrive at Canterbury creativity.
Canterbury Creativity
Mum’s hard working nature and need to tie up loose ends, means that she shows remarkable creativity. She’s been nicknamed Houdini. For those of you who know her, she’s a proper Alberta lady – polite but firm and very capable. After being found outside trying to get back in, it was clear that she needed to move to a more secure setting. With that decision, she went through the wardrobe.
At first Mum was confused and explained that someone had forgotten to give her a passkey so that she could get back out of the Lane at which point we deflected her. In the Lane, she has joined a fellowship. She has a group of friends and retains her status as a proper lady.
People with Alzheimer’s have trouble finding words – Canterbury creativity refers in part to allowing people to use whatever word comes to mind and then the rest of us can fill in the blanks. The people working in the Lane are a special group of people who are very sensitive to the community.
The aides in the Lane are patient and kind. They put enormous effort into treating each person as an individual. One of our special aides calls Mum ‘Grandma’ and we encourage this. A Grandmotherly relationship creates a sense of obligation on both sides – when Mum wakes up to a cheerful “Time to get up Grandma’ she’s happy to see one of the many family members and I’m sure she must wonder at times which granddaughter she’s talking to. But Grandmas are patient and kind when they deal with their granddaughters so she’s determined to act accordingly.
When I join my mother in the Lane at meal times and she’s talking with her table mates, I feel like I’m in a crossword puzzle. There are bits and pieces (letters and groups of letters) that make sense and guide me to complete the word. It’s an active and somewhat exhausting process of working on the clues. I start with the easy answers and then move towards the more obscure.
Being In a crossword puzzle is a secure place for my Mum and it makes it easy for us as a family. We plan our lives knowing that Mum is well looked after. In fact, it’s much less stressful for us than when she was in the Manor or even in the Court. She’s a well respected member of an offbeat family which is coming full circle to where she started – a well loved child in a large, boisterous, charming and slightly nutty pioneer family from central Alberta.
Gratitude for Canterbury’s Care
I will finish by saying that a nurse, here at Canterbury said that she wished that her own parents had had this opportunity. I sincerely wish that we all have this opportunity as we get more vulnerable in old age.
The continuity of care in a family oriented situation is awesome.
The families of the residents are tolerant, understanding and good humoured. The continuity of care at Canterbury extends outward into the community.
Written by Janet Sperling – Family Caregiver Advocate
