Another first for me: two weeks away to the other side of the world

If you ever get the chance to go to New Zealand, go.

If your spouse is living in a memory care center, and you get the chance to go to New Zealand, go.

“You absolutely should not feel guilty about being gone,” a nurse where Evelyn lives said to me, a few days before I left for New Zealand with my daughter and her husband.

“I figure I could stay here, close, for 10 years,” I replied, “and there might never be an emergency with Evelyn in all that time. But by then, I’d be too old and tired myself to take such a trip.”

Two weeks away

Truth be told, I felt old and tired more than once during the two weeks away March 15-29. My phone recorded many thousands of steps several days. I was just about adjusted to the 17-hour time change by the Saturday we returned home.

“Did you ever feel bad about leaving Evelyn?” someone asked me at church Sunday. I’m assuming he was ready to launch into his own “don’t feel guilty” speech, but I didn’t wait to hear it. I mentioned at least some of what I had decided long before I left.

Evelyn doesn’t seem to miss me when I’m not with her. She never asks about me when I’m gone. (But she did break into an uncharacteristic smile when I greeted her Sunday afternoon. “She’s grinning like a schoolgirl with a crush,” the nurse nearby observed.)

This was not some random excursion, but a trip with my daughter, Jennifer, and her husband. (It was her idea two years ago when our dear friends, the Webers, moved to New Zealand. We spent three days with them at the beginning. It was a wonderful reconnection.)

Posing before our final dinner with our NZ hosts, the Webers, at a waterside restaurant in Auckland.

This was the most time I’ve spent with my daughter since long before she was married, a rare opportunity. Jennifer and I were alone in the middle of the trip, while Matt took a three-day solo hike up a mountain and back.

A single question from me one of those evenings launched us into an hour of tearful sharing about the loss we’re experiencing. Spontaneous, unplanned, it offered healthy catharsis and bonding.

Good care for Evelyn

Evelyn receives good care where she’s living, care that was supported and enhanced by extra visits from friends and the daily service of my private-pay aides. They sent me texts every evening with reports on the activities of the evening:

Some examples:

“She was real bright-eyed and high energy when I got there. Very talkative and expressive. I took the dominos down and tried to get her to do a little game of pairing them up, but she wasn’t too interested, so I set them all up and let her knock them down, and she laughed and laughed.”
“We listened to the Christ’s Church sermon while I was getting her ready for bed and in bed and getting settled, and I brought her Communion.”
“We played a game that we tried a few weeks ago, and she was more engaged with it tonight and beat me two out of three times.”
“I brought wooden flowers. This is Evelyn’s arrangement. I helped bending the stems to have variety in height.”

“Those ladies are a godsend,” Jennifer said. “They’re caring for her the way a daughter would if she were in town.” And they’re providing care the facility staff would never have time to give.

I told my brother-in-law I would never have felt good about being gone so long if it were not for these aides. I thanked him again for his generous support of her care that allows me to pay for this extra help.

Hints of the beauty

And now, a few pictures from the trip. They do not begin to do justice to the unique scenery: Trees and flowers we don’t know plus lush examples of some we do. Magnificent, towering sequoias and sun-dappled glades of beech trees. Waterfalls, so many waterfalls! Mountains on all sides it seemed, some of them topped with snow.

Lovely waterfronts populated by restaurants offering fresh fish and remarkable desserts. Coffee, everywhere coffee. Cafes on every corner with fresh-baked sweets and savory treats, homemade seafood chowder, and cooked-to-order omelets. They put America’s franchised fast-food to shame. (We saw several McDonald’s with their posters advertising pineapple-topped hamburgers and just kept walking.)

It was all so good, but I’m glad to be back home. Today, in fact, I’m in the middle of a quick spring break visit from my son and grandson. Another example of my many blessings and good life.

Even though my tears push to the surface almost every day, I remember grief and joy are not incompatible partners. And I realize again how very many reasons I have to feel grateful.