Lucy and Ethel and Dementia

          Mom and I used to refer to ourselves as Ethel and Lucy, which I have mentioned here 

           Yesterday we were laughing together.  It felt almost like it had a very long time ago.

          Of course I don’t remember all of the conversation – just pieces.  But it went something like this

          During the Password game show:

          Mom:  “Humphrey.  What kind of name is Humphrey?  Who would name their kid Humphrey?”

          I laugh.

          “Humphrey.  That sounds like a hump.”

          “I never liked the name Dylan.  Whenever I hear that name, I think of dill pickles”

          Later we were working on a crossword puzzle.  Let’s get real.  Sometimes the puzzle creators reach for definitions. Or else it’s taken for granted that the puzzle solver just automatically knows the name of every geographical location (including fictional ones) and the histories behind them.  Give me a break.

          So we’re laughing at some of our rationalization and realizing just because the word fits doesn’t mean it goes.

          “Viola relative.  Do they mean a flower?  Or are we supposed to know the actual person?”

          “Or it could mean an instrument.”

          As it turned out, mom was spot on.  The answer was cello. 

          We had asked all of the “across” questions, but not all the downs.  She decided it was taking us too long and looked the answers up in the back – writing down some and still asking, “What the heck is that?”  or “Oh, yea. Right.” Followed by the rolling of eyes.

          And then the phone rang.  It was her friend, Erin.  For mom, the phone call came totally out of the blue.  I wasn’t as surprised as I had just mailed a card to her daughter’s address (which you can read about here) 

          Mom related what we were doing and Erin asked to speak to me.  Mom handed me the phone saying, “It’s my friend, Erin.  She wants to talk to you.”

          Of course Erin and I couldn’t have the conversation that’s been missing all of these years.  She thanked me for finding her. She said she had no idea.  Well, of course she had no idea.  That’s understandable.  We only learned about it less than a year ago.  And mom’s mind seems to have gone downhill rapidly since she was first diagnosed with dementia.

          Erin gave me two phone numbers, her mailing address and email address to pass on to Fran (which I did once I got home) and I sent Erin a more detailed message than the one I had sent her at Christmas time. 

          I visit mom again today.  I hope it’s as pleasant as yesterday’s visit.

Driving Miss Daisy - Lucy Ricardo style

          My mom has always had a lousy sense of direction – at least since I’ve known her.  Improper medication or improper amounts due to failing health and aging does not help matters.  She’s always been an okay driver – not exceptional.  Perhaps even good at one time – now?  I think my mom behind a wheel is rather a scary combination.

          But then again having me behind the wheel when the sun is streaming over dirty windows – also scary.  And to top it off – send me to unfamiliar roads.  It’s like Lucy Ricardo driving Ethel Mertz.  (For those of you who have no clue what that statement even means, I encourage you to go to YouTube and click on “I Love Lucy” – any episode, doesn’t matter.  It should help you to understand my comparison)

          Mom and I have actually had quite a few Lucy/Ethel moments – like the first (and only) time we attempted to wallpaper the bathroom – figuring it was the smallest room – and how long does one spend in that particular room anyway? 

          The wallpaper itself was truly loud.  Big huge flowers in a variety of colors.  And bright.  One could walk past the bathroom and attempt to flip the light switch thinking that the light had been left on but never turning off the glare – which only became even brighter when the lights really were turned on.

          Have you ever been in the tub when suddenly the wall paper joins you?  It was quite obvious in many ways that those who had hung it were definitely amateurs.  As I recall the bathroom had to be redone after only a month.

          Recently I had to take my mom to the Driver’s License Division.  A specific DLD – one that might as well have been in another county considering the route we took to get there.  Over half the roads had not existed ten years ago when I had last driven there (or that general area rather) and was more familiar with where the roads went – or at least thought I did. 

          What an adventure!  I detailed my day in three pages and emailed it to my sibs and family to make them aware.  Some laughed – I’m guessing Corey shook his head in disbelief with another concern: perhaps someone ought to review his sister’s driver’s license as well.  And I’m sure if the DL workers could have seen me driving on the road they would have had me retest as well.

          I’m not saying I’m a horrible driver.  I try to be careful.  I don’t answer my cell phone – I take the slow roads and back ways.  I avoid traffic as much as possible.  And I don’t drive at night.   But throw me into a foreign area without a GPS and it’s pretty chaotic.

          And then there’s Roland, who for the most part has a keen sense of direction, who can drive somewhere for the first time and make it appear as though he drives there on a daily basis.  I admire that.  I can make my routine travel appear as though I’m driving for the first time.  I am Lucy Ricardo.