The very aptly named Pixie became a member of our household when she suckered my Mom into letting her into the house. A mother cat had given birth to four kittens in our storage shed. My Mom was never a cat person. That all changed when this little minx decided that the storage shed was not for her. She wanted to live in the big house.
Pixie became my helper in being a caregiver to my Mom. Pixie would curl up on her lap and refuse to get up. Mom was a stubborn person and was always mopping floors and washing curtains and doing things that aggravated her heart. She didn’t retire until she was 84. I used Pixie as an excuse to convince her that she needed to retire because Pixie missed her too much when she was gone.
When we lost Mom Pixie became my cat much to the dismay of my old cat Merlin. This little rascal had no respect for my senior citizen. I remember one evening when Mom told Pixie not to smack Merlin in the face with her paw. Pixie rose up on her hind legs and proceeded to smack Merlin with both paws. There is a reason that cat rhymes with brat.
The last couple of weeks have been rough for caregivers that I know. Two of my friends overseas lost their Moms within days of each other. Al and I have never actually met. He lives in Wales and I live in North Carolina. We first met on an Internet forum discussing one of our favorite shows The Prisoner. We had a lot in common though. We both had elderly mothers and we both believed in a higher power.
I was caregiver for my mother. Al took care of his Mom. Both of us had elderly mothers with bad hearts. Both women were feisty and that helped keep them alive. Both had lost their husbands who were the loves of their lives. On May 25, 2010 that feistiness failed with my Mom and her heart gave out. She died in her sleep. Al had driven the miles to be with his elderly Mom over the weekend and had gone back to his home. On Tuesday he didn’t get the normal phone call from her. He drove over to her house a couple of hours away. He found that the heat was on, the television was going, and a mug of tea was sitting on the table next to her. She looked like she was asleep but she wasn’t. She was dead.
I will never forget the call from my brother. He said, “You need to come home right away. Mom is gone.” I had left that morning thinking Mom was sleeping. When I didn’t get hold of her during my afternoon break I had remembered that she said she was going to Wal-Mart and I figured she hadn’t brought her cell phone with her. Mike came home and found her dead in her bed.
Al and I were both caregivers and both of us clung to the hope that our elderly mothers would somehow survive longer then their hearts were able to do so. Both of us tried to somehow make up for the loss of the men that they loved so they wouldn't be so lonely. Both of us faced the frustrations of Moms who didn’t always do what was best for them. We both honored these feisty women who gave us birth. Al and I supported each other during the sad days of loss.
I have been plagued with heath problems. My severe asthma turned into C.O.P.D. My arthritis wakes me up several times during the night. The pain medicine aggravates my G.E.R.D. Many nights I am the victim of insomnia. As Pixie would follow Mom around making sure she was okay, she has taken to following me around to make sure I’m okay.
My Mom died in the early morning hours. As close as we can tell it was around 3:00 A.M. Pixie was with her when she died and stayed with her until my brother came home. The other night I was fighting a respiratory infection. I have no health insurance and cannot afford a doctor or medicine. I rely on over the counter medicine and pray that my body will find a way to heal itself. On this particular night I woke up to Pixie tapping me on the face. I rubbed her head and a few minutes later she jumped down and went back to the living room and hopped onto her favorite chair where she sleeps at night. I was puzzled as to why she woke me up and looked at the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning.
Pixie frequently would pat Mom on the face. I am convinced that when Mom died Pixie must have tried repeatedly tapping her on the face to try and get her to “wake up.” I think that the other evening when she came in and woke me up she was trying to make sure that I would wake up and not stay “asleep” like Mom did. Pixie is proving that once a caregiver kitty always a caregiver kitty. She is looking out for me like she looked out for Mom.
Mom fell in love with this little black cat with a white spot on her chest and green/gold eyes. She told everybody that she never believed that she would fall in love with a cat. Pixie is a little rascal but it is easy to see why Mom fell in love with her. Pixie has a heart that is full of love for her people. She is a living reminder of my days as a caregiver. I couldn’t ask for a better caregiver for myself.