A Review of my memoir The Empty Nest – A Mother’s Hidden Grief

I have just met Michael on WP and he very kindly bought my Memoir and may I say read it within a day or two. He has been absolutely gracious by submitting a review on Amazon which I post below.

Those who know me, also know that I do not push my book onto you, this is not why I started this site, for I feel uneasy about self promoting. I post this because I am humbled knowing that people have read my work, read the words that I had written, this is an absolute joy for me, whether they like what I have written or not, I have pride that I can call myself a writer, something I have dreamed about for so long.

My penned words about what I experienced when my girls left home, have now been read by 72 people – this may seem small – to me it is huge. Large profits – I make not – knowing that people can resonate with what I have written – that is worth so much more.

To Michael I thank you, from the bottom of my heart for this review.

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Review

The Empty Nest

A Mother’s Hidden Grief

J M Kadane

Jenny Kadane’s book chronicling her life bringing up two daughters is an excellent account of her life exploring the journey she makes with them from birth to the present time. She takes us through the good and the bad moments of parenting with great honesty and clarity.

Her writing is straightforward, accessible and at times you find your self laughing at the funny things she recalls but there are other times where you find yourself expressing your own emotional response to the stories many of which, as a parent, you relate to.

There are features within this text that give it a universal appeal.

As parents we all have to deal with the day our children decide it is time for them to leave home.

We often agonise over them leaving, fearful of what they will have to deal with in the big wide world and always we want to be protective of them.

No parent ever wants to see their child suffering and we go to great lengths to provide support and back ups for the times when they do break free and leave the nest.

All of these issues are dealt with in great detail and the reader is able to easily empathise with the writing and sentiments being expressed.

There are times in this text where Ms Kadane comes across as a highly emotional woman. (In fact she does make the point at various times in her work that she was aware of her emotional outpourings.)

Rather than being a text, which could have descended into a study of emotional angst, she is clever in reflecting constantly on her own emotions, and on the significance of the events that occur in her life.

Ms Kadane’s daughters, like most children grow and become their own persons.  As a parent we know our children do not grow up to necessarily reflect our attitudes nor do they always do what you would wish for them to do.

The factor for me, which made me connect so readily with her words, was the attitude that she was always there for her girls. It is easy to say these things but as a parent when your children transgress from what you consider the norms of society and test your patience and fortitude ‘hanging in there with them’ can take great courage.

‘The Empty Nest” is a record of the love of a mother, the fierce determination to be the best mother she can be along with her own reflections and understandings of how each development in her daughters lives impacted on her.

As a male reader I was immediately taken by the depth of her writing. I could relate so well to the emotions she was experiencing.

Fathers also feel a sense of grief when their children leave. We like to have our children ‘within’ arms length’ so to speak. Like Ms Kadane we also crave a regular contact with our children.

You finish the text thinking what a brave woman she is to have sat and reflected as she has done on her life. She owns all the mistakes she admits she’s made, there is no glossing over the truth and for this reason the book has great value to other mothers and I might add fathers as well.

No reader will regret the time spent on this excellent book. A great read.

Michael Grogan

Parent

Teacher

July 2013.

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Back in April, Meditating Mummy also read and wrote a review, to her I am immensely grateful. I am ‘chuffed’ that people have taken the time to read and to write their thoughts. You may see her review on the below link.

Reblogged from Meditating Mummy’s Blog:

I thank you.

Elderly and my Pop

I have previously written posts about my Pop but today I needed to write once more, so forgive me for not having a ‘cheery post’ to submit tonight. I simply need to be able to talk about how I feel.

I am watching my father decline rather rapidly. It is the most heart breaking thing I have had to witness (apart from having to hold my 16 year old dog as the Vet put her to sleep) and anyone who has cared for their elderly parents will know what I am writing about. This.. this is something almost unbearable to face.

He will be 86 in July my dear Pop.  

The last few weeks he has been experiencing so much trouble walking, he struggles to actually raise his leg to place one foot in front of the other. His hands also shake uncontrollably and he is embarrassed to eat in public.

Thankfully they are only a seven minute drive from where we live, so I am visiting as much as I can, helping in whatever way I can. Mum is also struggling with walking but currently she is managing better than what Pop is.

They both are so frustrated with life. The last couple of days I have heard mum say,  “If I could end this I would, I can’t do what I use too, I hate being this way”.  This afternoon around 4pm mum phoned,  just as Mr. S and I were heading out to watch a Movie. The call of help – “Dad had a lie down in bed and he is standing but can’t walk”.

Mr. S. and I drove over immediately. Dad was standing holding onto his walker, his whole body shaking. I gave him some pain killers and helped him onto his chair, his middle back and hip are hurting and he has sciatica symptoms. The issue is that he is not walking or able to exercise and his muscles are seizing up. After making sure he was comfortable (as there was really nothing else I could do to help), we went to the pictures (the whole time me watching Oblivion) thinking of how he was. As soon as it was finished, I went back to see him.

Dad in the Middle

He was standing cleaning his teeth holding onto the basin. I asked him if he wanted to get his pyjamas on so he would be more comfortable. Then I changed him, taking off his glasses, his jumper, undoing his shirt and slipping his pyjama top on carefully and very gingerly. I then took his track suit pants off (sweat pants) and put his PJ pants on.

This gorgeous man, my father, telling me it was all right for me to see his ‘privates’, thankfully no embarrassment from his side and certainly none from mine.

Then I gently rubbed some pain cream into his back and put his dressing gown on before helping him back to his chair.
He sat there shaking his head, feeling so depressed about how he had become, how he felt that life was not worth living anymore. This is the hard part, watching the man that you have idolised since you could remember feel that their life no longer holds any purpose.  I gave him a sedative, which I told him to take 20 minutes before he went to bed to help him get through the night without pain, I turned down his bed and placed a pillow for him to put his legs on. I gave him a drink of water. I watched as mum put her arms around him and stroked his white hair with tears in her eyes saying “We are here for you”. It is so hard to be strong in front of them, I turned my head not to show my tears. He replied “My girls”.

I have tried to talk them into moving into an Aged Care facility, but mum unfortunately is being a little stubborn and refuses to move anywhere.  Granted uprooting yourself from your family home at their age is a difficult proposition. I worry constantly about how they are coping and I feel guilty that I am not there 24 hours a day to help and support them. My life is now centred on being there for them whenever I can, this is what a child should do, as our parents age, we are the ones who then have to nurture them,  as they did for us all those years.

I wrote a card for Pop some time back and he must have misplaced it and I found it on his bed head this afternoon. I wrote what I thought of him as a father as a man as an individual. This soft spoken caring human being who has never said a wrong word about anyone in his life, who has always tried to be there for everyone is now in need of my help. He said  “I read your card Ginger” (my nickname) you have a way of making a grown man cry”.  I just hugged him and tears came to both of us. I sat in front of him and told him I know how frustrated he must be feeling and that he has to think that now he is in this stage of his life that he is limited with what he is able to do. I told him not to get depressed about his situation or mums, but to try each day to simply do what they can and what they aren’t able to do, I am there to do.

I fully understand why the elderly want to pass from the earth plain, to obtain relief from their suffering, from the embarrassment that they feel of no longer being fit and able without requiring or asking for help.  It’s humiliating for them. For so very long the mere thought of either of my parents passing has made me almost physically ill. No one wants this, no one wants to say goodbye to those that they love. Now though I understand, when I watch them, barely able to walk or in pain, now I understand…it terrifies me beyond belief,  this is something I hide in the back of my mind wishing for it to go away, to bring me back the parents that I had, for their sake not for mine. Sadly I know this will not happen and they will decline further and all I can do as their daughter is to be there.

We can say they have a ‘good innings’ but that does not bring me comfort.

If I could be by their side all day to help them I would, but as I am working now it is an impossibility. Tomorrow morning I am going over to do the weeding and mow the lawns and just be with my mum and dad.

Oh my darling Pop I wish that you weren’t facing this part of your life as you are, knowing that you were once able bodied, I understand how this must be tearing you apart inside.

I love you, I adore you, I am so proud of you and I am here for you……..your Ginger. xxx

Never squash a child’s dream

Written by a child for a child

I want to travel with the tortoise escaping in the middle night when my parents are sound asleep in their comfy beds.

I have planned my escape very carefully, each day when I returned from school I’d retrieve my pink vinyl covered notepad and scribble my getaway. my parents won’t be happy to see me go, they aren’t sure about tortoises, they would think I’m being silly. they would tell me to grow up and not talk nonsense, but it’s not nonsense to escape with someone you love. the timing must be right just after dinner I will ask mum for a sandwich. she will of course ask why, that I have just eaten and cannot be hungry. oh but I am mum I will answer I’m a growing girl after all. she will smile and make my sandwich. I will climb the stairs to my room and I know my heart will be racing so I must try very hard not to show my excitement. then I will wait and watch the clock upon my bedroom wall and listen to when the television has been switched off and their footsteps up the stairs. I need to stay awake, I need to. it is time, through the curtain on my bedroom window I see him waiting for me. opening my window which creaks I hold my breath hoping my parents will not wake and catch me. I am scared of the trellis of the height and hope I don’t get stabbed from the thorns off the climbing rose plant that dad planted two years ago. the trellis is broken in parts it’s old and mum has been telling dad to fix it for ever. quietly I step across the front lawn that crackles from the icy air. I have packed my drink container and my sandwich and a torch-light for the dark, even though I know my tortoise will know which way to go I’m still a little frightened of the dark. then I see him standing under the willow tree where he said he would be. I am so excited I run and climb upon his shell which is really his home sort of like mine and together we start our journey to far off magical places….I shall miss mum and dad but I love my tortoise too and they will understand..
let a child be a child and live out their dreams

copyright ramblingsfromamum 5.1.2013