“Regeneration takes a lot of energy.”—My Octopus Teacher
My husband, John, and I were watching a popular documentary entitled, My Octopus Teacher. While I could see where this movie would not be for everyone, as self-proclaimed nature lovers, John and I enjoyed it. At one point during the movie, the octopus goes into long term hiding after one of its arms is torn off by a predator. The narrator explains, “Regeneration takes a lot of energy,” and I knew, upon hearing those words, there was a lesson for me.
Regeneration is a word used in both biology and theology. In its most basic definition, it means, according to Merriam-Webster, “to become formed again.” It can also be described as a process of renewal and restoration. Upon reflection throughout the following week, the concept of regeneration became more nuanced. In fact, I began to contemplate the way in which I have observed forms of regeneration.
Mentally shuffling through life’s deck of cards, I began to notice all the ways in which various relations and friends have gone through numerous cycles of “forming again.” My siblings, my parents, members of John’s family, and even John and I have experienced several crippling and/or painful stages that felt as if a limb were cut away only to witness the miraculous resilience of the human spirit once more begin to help each person renew and restore.
In fact, by the time you read this, Dear Reader, I will have, along with my three siblings and other family members and friends, created ways to help my mother celebrate her 75th birthday on May 7, two days before Mother’s Day. Mom’s birthday was also her mother’s birthday, and I can’t help but notice, as part of the natural aging process, Mom not only looks similar to Grandmother, but also possesses many of Grandmother’s mannerisms.
“Sometimes the strength of motherhood is greater than natural laws.”–Barbara Kingsolver
Like Grandmother, Mom has had to go through numerous stages of regeneration that I am only now beginning to appreciate in order to achieve 75 years of life. Like all humans, Mom went through the obvious metamorphosis that is the infant through teen years, then into the young adult years, and the mid-life adult years. Now, she is fully immersed in those golden senior years for which Mom assures me aren’t always so golden!
As her oldest daughter who entered her life before she began her second decade of life, I have been a partial witness to moments of time when Mom has been forced to restoration phases. While it would be easy for me to offer commentary on these significant moments, I haven’t lived in Mom’s skin. Therefore, I cannot pretend to know the level of upheaval or turbulence that certain events must have generated for her. All I know is that if there is one thing Mom is good at doing, and thus modeling to all of her children, is the power of regeneration.
“A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take.”–Cardinal Meymillod
On Mom’s birthday, I did something I had only done one other time this school year (and that was due to John having surgery), I took a day off work to help her celebrate her mid-septuagenarian birthday. A few weeks prior, Mom invited me to attend her Friday morning Jazzercise class in Ironton, Ohio. The music playlist of Meghan Trainor, as per Mom’s request, would be choreographed by instructor, Rita Isaac.
“After all, I only turn 75 once,” my mom said to me with only a hint of heavy-handed inducement.
As I pondered my decision, I considered the past 17 months or so of Mom’s life. Her husband, Jim, was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia, and due to the rapid progression of this disease, Mom was forced to make the painful decision to place him into an assisted living center. This decision had to be made in the middle of the COVID pandemic/quarantine when patients in these centers were dying by the thousands. Thus, it was by no means an easy choice.
This was followed by a succession of deaths, including one fateful funeral in which Mom, and several family members in attendance, contracted COVID. The virus clung to Mom like a wine stain on a favorite shirt–there was no quick way to wash it away. Afterwards, came more deaths of loved ones, never-ending quarantining, and a winter that would likewise regenerate in unexpected ways.
Through it all, I witnessed Mom scratch, claw, and climb her way through each blow that life offered. Thankfully, she had, and continues to have, a devoted support system of friends and family to lend her a hand and/or an ear. Additionally, there was, and is, a professional cadre of further support at Marshall Health Senior Adult Care. Nonetheless, these past months required much internal restoration that only Mom could do for herself, and that Dear Reader, is the lesson to this story.
The latest regeneration of Dolores, my mom, is flourishing as I witnessed on May 7 in her Jazzercise class. Once she was able to get vaccinated, and restrictions were lifted, Mom became the proverbial butterfly flitting and floating in the grassy field that is life on the other side. Watching her dance, bop, and clap her way through her Jazzercise class with smiles for miles, I couldn’t help but admire her renewed exuberance and vibrancy. Seeing her surrounded once more by friends and acquaintances in her various community and social circles reassures, that indeed, there is a dawn after night, and there is joy after the pains of birth, or in this case, rebirth.
Happy Birthday, Mom! May you continue to find ways to renew and restore, and may your story remind others that regeneration of the human spirit is indeed possible!
Steph Simply 