On taking responsibility for an elderly parent, many of us hustle to the library or bookstore for the latest how-to books on managing the issues of aging. I wouldn't persuade you to do otherwise. But I would encourage you to obtain a copy of Kathy Phillips' The Moon on the Water. In 34 brief chapters, Phillips tells the story of how she moved her father from her girlhood home in New Jersey to her place in Hawaii. (Phillips teaches English at the University of Hawaii.) The episodes alone would provide both guidance and inspiration. But Phillips' does something more. She introduces us to a mythic Chinese figure often depicted in ancient art,named Kuan Yin. Known for her compassion, Kuan Yin  (whose name means "the one who perceives the sound of suffering") calmly faces the inevitable pains and difficulties of life, aiding others. It is this universal human quality that inhabits the telling of The Moon in the Water. The story-teller's voice is honest but not bleak. Her eye takes in every charming and sad detail. The writing has a quietly moving effect on the reader. Avoiding sentimentality, Phillips is a master of sentiments.

Phillip's father Marvin had been a fireman and a brakeman, a man who had seen a lot in his life and who now was equipped with a defibrillator and whose memory was fading severely. As we listen to Phillips describe their daily challenges, we barely notice how much information we are absorbing. The move to Hawaii brings with it many relatively small bureaucratic issues that add up to a series of delays and endless tasks. Marvin's railroad pension must now be deposited in a local bank; to open an account, he needs a state ID with picture. To get a state ID, he needs a birth certificate. Then comes the transfer of Marvin's health insurance from state to state. Phillips contacts the Hawaii Medical Service Association (HMSA):

"An HMSA worker, Harriet, sends me six booklets to choose form, each fifty pages. Hazarding the "65C Plus" plan, I fill out the application, which asks for a copy of Dad's medicare card. He says it's in his wallet. I unfold the dilapidated leather and find a picture of Mom from half a century ago, wearing bobby socks and a tight sweater; a picture of me as a baby, wearing nothing; ah, a card with "Horizon Medicare Blue" blazoned on the border." But weeks later, she receives a letter from HCSA sending word that the application has been rejected. A weeks-long, drawn out process ultimately results in the transfer. Phillips' chapter on dealing with her father's tax returns is a brief epic in itself.

"Frustrated by illness and exhaustion, Dad suddenly starts getting angry," she writes. "Anger has never been part of my experience of him." Marvin's moods are relatively stable on the whole. The interest here lies more in how Phillips perceives and reacts to the situation. Her ability to tap into her own Kuan Yin is the key. But I wouldn't want Phillips to be regarded as some "new age" philosopher. Everything in The Moon in the Water is rooted in reality. Shopping for Marvin's needs requires Phillips to constantly evaluate products and services. When Marvin begins to lose bowel control, Phillips writes, "Sometimes generous friends offer to pick up supplies for me. But it's better to go with them ... For example, get 'underwear,' not 'briefs.' Get sixteen-count, first choice, eighteen-count, second choice. No, don't get eighteen-count at all if it says 'super-absorbent.'  The sixteen-count is already thicker and more absorbent, for nighttime, whereas the eighteen-count is less absorbent for daytime."

I've really only touched the surface of this moving and engaging book. It's filled with the wisdom of caring. The Moon in the Water also encourages me to think: I, too, have the ability to care with sensitivity and skills for my parents.

[Published April 2008, 160 pages, $19.95]

Ron Slate

Comments

[test]

test