My hero—would have to be my mom, Sylvia Drescher.
I have learned so much from her, mostly by observing and listening to her while on multiple daily FaceTime visits together.
She is, at 89, the overseer of my dad’s homecare. He receives around-the-clock help from home aides.
That rotation alone requires constant schedule management as one goes on vacation while another is out sick.
They have been married for 70 years and are still madly in love.
But my dad has Parkinson’s, and has gone from once being a white-collar systems analyst and very athletic to, at 94, now being an invalid, barely able to transfer from bed to wheelchair or take a brief supervised walk with his walker.
But without question, the only reason he is still alive and has quality of life is because of my mother’s commitment to preserving that quality of life.
Every aide who works there, Mom makes sure understands that they work for HIM. She trains them to respectfully greet him, remind him of their name, and always treat him like a person and not a thing they do stuff to.
“Talk to him, put on sports, toss the balloon, make certain he’s clean and dry!”
When things are difficult for him and he feels anxious, she reassures him not to worry about anything. As long as he’s not in pain, there’s “no problem!”
When he bursts into song, she sings along. It’s often “Smile.”
When he remembers something that she can’t, she praises him profusely on how smart he is. That’s what she was most attracted to about him. “You’re so smart, Morty!”
She is always staying on top of the aides to make sure he’s dressed beautifully. Polo shirts and shorts are his preference in South Florida, but it’s always coordinated.
“Morty, you’re still so handsome! Full head of hair, gorgeous face, not even a wrinkle!”
Often I have been asked what’s the secret of this unusually devoted and loving marriage, to which I jokingly say, “She cooks and he eats!”
But there is a lot of truth to that. Every meal of each day, she asks him what he’s in the mood to eat and then runs down menu options. God bless him, he always knows what he wants, be it oatmeal for breakfast or a bologna sandwich for lunch or spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.
But Mom will make him whatever he wants, even if it’s with her last ounce of strength!
She is often tired by the end of the day, sometimes at the start, but even at 9 p.m. she is still in a full face of makeup, pants and, sweater. She’s not ever lazy when it comes to her appearance...or anything else for that matter!
She feels crowded by the parade of aides and therapists who are constantly passing through their two bedroom condominium.
Mom lost all privacy as Dad became more debilitated. And her once-beautiful apartment—that she took great pride in—is now a nursing home filled with walkers, wheelchairs, hospital bed, and many other things one needs when in his condition.
Sometimes she shares with me how hard it is to get old and says, “There are no U-turns in life, so enjoy it while you can.”
But when it’s all said and done, she always says that none of it matters because she’s grateful that she still has her Morty!
My mother is by far the most heroic person I have ever had the privilege of knowing.
She exemplifies an authentic, unconditional love rare in human relationships.
I aspire to be more like her and to grow old as she has with such powerful commitment to her loved ones, such purpose to care for and bring pleasure and joy to the love of her life—and to show unwavering strength as the matriarch in our family.
She always says, “I don’t know what I did right to deserve such a daughter!”
But the truth is, I am only who I am because of my mother, Sylvia.
By Fran Drescher, her proud and grateful daughter.
Fran Drescher is best known for her title role in the 90’s sitcom The Nanny, a series she created and executive produced. She has lent her unique voice to her activism in areas of health, civil liberties, and environmental issues. Today she holds the esteemed position of President of SAG–AFTRA