A local column by Scott Bond

I recently visited my family in Chicago. The trip was not a scheduled vacation or family reunion, but rather a trip planned to support my parents as my father went through chemotherapy. His cancer is non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and was caught at an early stage. At 78 years of age my father is a serious reader, a fan of opera as well as a fan of all things architecturally unique. He loves Frank Lloyd Wright and has visited many of his designs that have been built across the country.

As the oldest son in our family, I knew that I needed to make this visit. I needed to provide some relief for my brother and two sisters who still live in the area, and I needed to be part of the family experience as my father worked through the six rounds of chemotherapy that his doctors had planned for him. The trial and error of my father’s chemo cocktail landed him in the hospital after each of his first two rounds of chemotherapy. By the time he reached the third round, they found a better balance, and he came through the low days without a trip to the hospital.

All of these details being relayed to me by my mother or by a sibling were nerve-wracking. I needed to make the trip and spend the week helping my parents.

As I planned for the trip, I must have imagined a dozen different ways for this visit to happen. My hopes were to be helpful in as many different ways as I could in a week. My fears were that I would be gripped with fear as I witnessed my father in a weakened condition and my mother in a worried frenzy.

The trip was wonderful. I found true joy in the ability to be helpful each and every day. The trips to the store for groceries with my mother gave us a chance to talk, helping me to understand her fears as well as my own. My dad had a list of his usual spring projects around the house and I am proud to say that we accomplished all of them. Mom’s list was about her yard and garden. No problem. I was on a roll. I was the designated house cleaner, chauffeur and another set of eyes and ears for the doctor’s visits during that week.

My dad made a couple of trips out with me. We visited one of the notorious “big box stores” to get what we needed for a project. We made a trip out to the pharmacy as well as follow up visits with the clinic. The chemotherapy certainly had slowed him down, drastically thinning his remaining hair, and changing his taste buds to the point that he had stopped enjoying his 4 p.m. microbrew. I never thought that I would see that day!

What I admired most about him during this visit was his optimism. My dad has always been optimistic and positive about our family and all the little dramas that came with raising five kids and seeing us through our own adult journeys of marriage, children and our own grandchildren. He was rock solid when he talked about his recovery, enthusiastic about the care he is receiving and planning his remission party where we can all come together as a family to celebrate his victory.

Many of us are caregivers to family who live close and others of us are providing the best we can for family members who live further away. We all do the best we can in either situation. Care giving can be complicated and emotionally and physically exhausting. I now know from experience that it can also provide the opportunity to become closer as a family. I now know that I can make the shift to loving son and care giver for my parents.

Good thing, too; I just talked to my mom. She is having double knee replacement surgery this summer. Yikes!

Scott Bond is the director of Senior and Disability Services for Oregon Cascades West Council of Governments, the Area Agency on Aging for Benton, Linn, and Lincoln counties. He can be reached at 541-812-6008 or by e-mail at sbond@ocwcog.org.