MOTHERS' DAYS
A husband and wife invite their ailing mothers into their home and discover the value of shared responsibility
BY:ANNE HOSANSKY
Photography by Fran Collin
Susan and Jerry Winer of Bexley, Ohio, had an agreement. If either of their widowed mothers became incapacitated, they said, that mother could live with them. They never dreamed they would be caring for both mothers at the same time!
A year ago, Jerry’s then–94-year-old mother, Ida Winer, experienced episodes of falling. She moved in with Jerry’s sister, Betsy, who lived near Ida’s Florida home. But Betsy’s being divorced and having a fulltime job made caring for Ida difficult. When Jerry flew to Florida to visit his mother, who was bruised from her falls and depressed over her failing health, he met with Ida’s gerontologist who warned that she was deteriorating. That’s when Jerry phoned Susan and they decided to live by their agreement, hire an aide and have Ida move in with them.
Two months later, Susan invited her 92-year-old mother, Grace Kronberg, who also lived in Florida, to come for a visit. But when Susan met her mother at the airport, she was shocked to see an emaciated woman in a wheelchair who was barely able to see, having lost the sight in one eye and developed limited vision in the other. “I thought I was looking at someone out of Auschwitz,” Susan says. There was no way that she or Jerry would allow Grace to continue living alone.
They took her to a doctor to find out why she’d lost so much weight. “He told us that liquids were going into her lungs instead of [down] her esophagus, so we got lessons in how to make foods more solid for her,” Susan says, adding proudly that Grace has since gained 22 pounds.
The mothers were each given one of the bedrooms that formerly had been the Winer daughters’ before the girls married. But that was only the beginning of the changes in the house. A chairlift was installed so neither mother need climb the stairs. Other equipment includes a walker for Grace, and two wheelchairs—one upstairs and one down—for Ida, who is unable to walk. Since Ida also is incontinent, there’s a potty and supply of diapers. The living room has been taken over by a special exercise bike both women use, plus a book station for the recordings for the blind that Grace avidly listens to. “My home doesn’t look the same,” Susan quips.
An aide is supposed to come every day. Getting one to come on a weekend is a constant hassle, though, and occasionally an aide would miss a weekday appointment. Once, when Jerry, who’s 65 and a professor of psychology at Ohio State University, had to leave to give a lecture at OSU, the aide failed to show up. Since Susan’s unable to lift Jerry’s mother, he had to stay. Frantic phone calls to the agency finally produced a substitute aide, and Jerry just made his lecture on time.
But even on normal days, the aides leave at four o’clock. Then Jerry and Susan take over. They agreed that Jerry would do the “hands on” care of his mother, and Susan would take care of her mother and meals. Jerry’s chores include taking Ida to the bathroom where, says Susan, “he does everything that has to be done.”
Meals call for deft juggling. Although there are no dietary restrictions, there are definite preferences. “I try to make one main dish for everyone, and lots of different side dishes,” explains Susan. “For instance, my mother likes vegetables, but my mother-in-law won’t eat them. She likes applesauce, which my mother doesn’t like.”
Ida’s food has to be cut up for her, and Jerry sits beside her to help when she has trouble getting food to her mouth. Grace can feed herself, but she has to be told how foods are arranged on her plate. (“The potato’s at four o’clock,” for instance.) Susan insists that everyone sit at the table. “I’m trying to maintain as much of a normal routine as possible for both of them.”
When everyone’s finished eating, Susan blows a whistle “because it’s something to bring smiles to their faces.” Why a whistle? “That’s what teachers do, blow whistles!” says Susan, 63 and a retired sixth-grade teacher. Although both mothers are extremely hard of hearing, they can hear the high pitch of the whistle. One day Ida told her, “You forgot to blow it.” (“She’s cute,” Susan says.) Ida wears hearing aids, which provide only minimal help, but Grace refuses to do so. Because of their difficulty hearing, there’s no interaction between the two, although they’d been good friends in Florida.
Aware that it’s important to make them feel included, Susan has both mothers join her in the traditional Jewish ritual of saying Friday night prayers as she lights the Sabbath candles. Respecting her mother’s need for some independence, Susan gives Grace simple tasks, such as helping with the eggs for chopped liver and putting the bags into the shopping cart in the supermarket.
Ida, who sleeps most of the day, goes to bed for the evening at 7:30. But the “Energizer bunny”—as Susan dubs her mother—sits up with Jerry and Susan as they watch TV. “My mother can tell you everything that’s gone on for the past seventy-five or eighty years! She likes CNN because, though she can’t see, she can hear the news.” The volume, however, is turned way up. It’s so high, in fact, that Susan claims that between that and Grace’s radio, she has to scream to be heard. “My friends complain that I talk too loudly now, but that’s what I do at home.”
“I look for places to take my mother,” Susan says, such as a Yiddish club. Twice a week, Susan takes Grace to a pool so she can exercise in the water. Susan also brings her mother along when she plays canasta with her friends, letting Grace sit in on a few hands. “We tell her what card we’re discarding or picking up—loudly!”
However, getting away as a couple requires negotiation. Susan and Jerry each have two very supportive siblings who pinch hit. For instance, when the couple went on vacation last summer, they took Grace with them. But since Ida was incapable of making the trip, Jerry’s brother filled in. The brothers and sisters phone every day. “And our girls visit often, bringing the grandchildren,” Susan says.
Nursing care doesn’t come cheaply. Fortunately, Ida has a home healthcare policy and Grace has some savings, so they share the cost of the aide between them and pay for medicines. Susan and Jerry refuse to accept payment for food. “This is our gift.”
Nights can be frustrating, Susan admits. Grace gets up to go to the bathroom, so Susan gave her a little silver bell with instructions to ring it when she needed help. But after a few nights of being awakened at three in the morning, Susan decided the bell had to go. She rehearsed the walk to the bathroom with Grace, who’s now able to get there on her own.
Jerry’s sleep, though, is increasingly interrupted because lately Ida wakes up crying in the middle of the night. “Jerry soothes her by rubbing her back for half an hour," Susan confides.
They all have an unvarying bedtime routine. Susan tells her mother, “I love you,” and Grace responds, “Thank you for everything.” Meanwhile, Jerry recites a Yiddish blessing to Ida, which translates into: “Go to sleep well and wake up well.” Then his mother repeats the blessing to him.
“It gets wild at times,” Susan confesses, “but we’re doing okay.” Despite the problems and sleep deprivation, neither she nor Jerry has any regret about taking in their mothers. “These were two very depressed women who weren’t eating,” Susan says. “They wouldn’t have survived in a retirement home.”
She also thinks that because she and Jerry are there for each other, they’ve become stronger as a couple. “We wave to each other in passing!”