UPDATE SEPTEMBER 22

Mom’s new digs at Guthrie Nursing and Rehab, Cedar Run floor 2

I’m very late in this update. September has already been a chaotic whirlwind in my own life of my own making (probably genetically inherited by my father). I did, however get to pass through Cortland for exactly 24 hours last week September 15th. We got to spend some quality time with Connie in that short stop over. She met my friends from Nevada, Jordan and Karey — close close friends who have been significant in my life for many years now, but whom my parents have never met in person. So this was a special introduction.

But here’s the kicker, and I’m going to cut to the chase here (sorry for burying the lede): We visited mom at Guthrie Nursing and Rehab, her new residence. It has been our family’s goal to have Mom land at Guthrie since the decision to move her back to Cortland. She’s actually been there since August 27, and I’ve just been delinquent to post this blog to update everyone.

There was a good deal of individual and community advocacy behind the scenes that helped assist on her way up the storied “wait list” for Guthrie Rehab. Thank you Mary Leary and perhaps others that might have been contributed. The wait periods are very undefined, so we had no idea when they were going to call to offer her a bed. The circumstances of how one moves up the list are rather macabre. It didn’t feel good to “wish” she would get into Guthrie sooner, given the implications of what that would mean for other residents there.

But regardless, she’s there now, and we’re overjoyed. We know she’s getting regular therapies from speech to PT and OT, as well as very diligent care hygienically, with meals, and more.

Visiting her twice last week, we noted her improved short term and long term memories. She remembered that her good friend Barb came to visit briefly a few days before. She remembered that she used to own a Buick. I asked her what color it was. She said it was dark blue. I asked her what color dad thought it was. She said he thought it was green, with a hilarious raise of her eye brows. The blue versus green disagreement about that car was notorious during that era in the ‘90s. (Since witnessing her sarcastic eyebrow raise, my friend Jordan told me he seems to have subconsciously adopted this mannerism).

Mom was quiet but very present. We gave her so much love and affection, and she so authentically returned it. Lots of smiles. Good back and forth.

So that’s the big news. She is located on the second floor Cedar Run of Guthrie Nursing and Rehabilitation. Dad will still continue to pick her up and have planned excursions and hangs at Lansing ave.

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NOW… Because I’m a horrible brother, I’m only just getting to publish the VERY thoughtful and poetic blog post my sister Mia wrote the day after her initial transfer to Guthrie back in August. So please take the time to read her words below. She is a wonderful writer.

MIA’S WORDS

Growing up, when the summer months melted into August, the energy in our house shifted. The endless summer days -- filled with bike rides, hide and seek, pools, picnics, parks, and visits to family in the Adirondacks – refocused on the year ahead. Afternoons, once spent lounging in the hammock in the backyard, reading or napping, were replaced by afternoons at Smith School, helping Mom build a bulletin board, pull music for the first week, dust off instruments and even start selecting songs for the Christmas concern. Mornings that were once lazy and everlasting pivoted into joining Dad at the College, helping him get his office ready and make copies of his syllabi for the fall semester.

By the time mid-August hit, our family buzzed with the start-of-the-year excitement. Mom dropped us off on the fields for double-sessions of soccer pre-season. Dad made sure we were on time to all our scrimmages. There was Convocation, department meetings, catching up with the faculty at Smith School and TC3. Football started. Mornings were cooler (even cold, sometimes!). Mom would take us on our annual back-to-school shopping excursions. We packed our backpacks, replaced lunch boxes, filled out all the school forms, and we were all filled with the hope and eagerness of the new year.

As we got older, August was even more exciting. Jake’s wedding was in August; The first grandbaby is an August baby; Augusts have been filled with Starmer wedding planning, family visits, travel, moving, and – because none of us ever left school – we all still buzz a little bit with the start of the new academic year.

Mom enjoying lunch in her fireplace den at Lansing Ave

This August, Dad went full-blown Nicholas Sparks’ The Notebook, pouring his heart into making adjustments to the house and the cars in the hopes that it might allow for mom to be home. He poured a concrete path, fixed some doors, replaced windows, explored some bathroom remodels, and even bought a car designed for wheelchair passengers. This August, then, Dad brought Mom home for the first time since the aneurism. --- Ok, I’m taking creative liberties here because of the August theme. It was actually June 30th that dad brought Mom home for the first time. She didn’t care what the date ways, though, she was home, and she was so, so happy.

On August 1, for their 44th anniversary, Dad bought mom home again. They ate pasta and meatballs from the Green Arch on the back patio. They sat with friends and told stories. Mom listened and enjoyed a Coke. Here eyes glistened with happy tears. I can only imagine how she felt sitting back in her own yard, in the garden that she and Dad built over the last thirty years, near the love of her life and two of her dear friends. Mom was home.

And so August went. Dad took Mom to music on the green. They’ve been home in the evenings, waiting for the solar lights to flicker on when the sun dips behind Barry school. They’ve watched movies in the backroom. Dad is cooking for her – all her favorite foods. And in response, Mom is talking more, remembering more, and engaging with her family and friends who visit while she’s home. August slipped away with Mom spending afternoons on Lansing Avenue, returning to Park late in the evening, long after dark when her housemates were already asleep.

August had a somber moment, though, too. We reached the one-year anniversary of the start of this new era. I don’t think any of us will forget the phone call from Dad, the text message fragmented and syncopating between breaths and ICU beeps. Crisis and tragedy fill that day--- in more ways that any of us could have imagined. This year, on that quiet August anniversary, we all received messages of love, of hope, and of care from the village that hasn’t left Dad’s side in 365 days. Thank you <3 we felt every good thought and all the love you sent our day.

The day came. Then it went.

And the next day, something exciting happened (and 800 words into this blog post, we’ve reached the update we’re so excited to share!): Dad got a phone call from Guthrie, offering mom a room at Cedar Run, one floor below Misty Glen at Cortland Guthrie Nursing and Rehabilitation Center on Homer Ave.

<And everyone from Cortland collectively exhales>

Since January, when our family accepted the reality that Mom was likely going to need nursing care and support for the rest of her life, we advocated to get Mom to Guthrie. Guthrie, however, had an 18-month waitlist which meant that Mom headed to Cortland Park in the interim. As Luka alluded in a previous blog post, Park was a learning experience, one that was successful solely because Dad, Luka, and Jake have been dedicated, persistence, and focused on accountability and care. Mom’s placement in Guthrie is more than a gift. And we know, with all our hearts, that this entire town rallied around our family. Quiet advocates. Those who helped us network. This town has never hesitated to show up for our family. And we are so, so grateful.

Her last day there, Dad arrived at Cortland Park, packed up Mom’s room, and couldn’t make it out of the building without hugs and tears from the nursing team who loved her so. And a few minutes later, they arrived a Guthrie. Familiar faces, Cortland legends, a new cozy bed. Once again, as August drifts away into a moment in time, we are filled with hope and excitement and the start of a new year.