Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 27, 2026

Remembering the Meeting


          I don’t know how long my brothers had power of attorney for my mom’s welfare when she had dementia. I don’t know if it was when she was still living at home or after we put her into assisted living.  I don’t know if I can find the exact date in my file or not.  I do remember all four of her children had gone downtown for a visitation with an attorney.

          There was concern about finances and how long we would be able to keep her in assisted living and if we could rely on state contribution in the future should the money run out – and just how long would we have before the state could/would assist.  It was a first visit for me and my sister.  I don’t know if my brothers had met with the attorney before in person or if things were done over the phone.  I don’t recall – though I’m certain my youngest brother remembers the details vividly.  He just seems to have an Hyperthymesia memory.

          I remember the session was scheduled for three hours.  Apparently they do that with family members leaving them time to squabble – which was never part of our circumstances.  We agreed upon things according to our faith, our values, and respect for not only our parents but each other as well.  We did not need the full three hours.  In fact, just after the attorney sat down and gave some council and asked if we had any questions before proceeding, I spoke up.  I said it was probably out of the ordinary but could we please start off with a word of prayer.

          That in itself made a huge difference.  The attorney was taken aback to our behavior and agreement.  Being the state executor had been hard on the one brother and asked if he could turn that over to the youngest who already had power of attorney but the attorney advised that the power of attorney and executor not be the same person.  But we were okay with it.  All four of us could sign whatever had to be signed.  The attorney said that in all his years of practice that he had only gotten through one other family as quickly as with ours.

          We put mom in a facility that we could afford.  I think they were understaffed and not so much individualized as other care facilities we had looked into.  But the staff did their best and we certainly don’t cast any blame.  Quite the contrary.  We are grateful to how things were handled.

          My youngest brother researched mom’s condition.  He said there were seven stages.  He said that he believed that mom was in stage five – which was actually a fun stage – which we chose to view it as. We thought mom would live in assisted living for many years – which was a big concern when we had met with the attorney.  But she was in assisted living for only nine months before she passed.  We did not have to see her go through stages 6 or 7 which we all considered a huge blessing.

          It’s quite an odd memory that I would think about.  I just had always wondered if there was a connection between Metformin and Dementia.  There were five individuals who lived on the same street – one had Alzheimers and the other four had another form of dementia. The four that had dementia all had diabetes – though I can’t  if all four took Metforim.  I know for certain that at least one did.  The one with Alzheimers lived the longest.  I don’t know if she was diabetic or not.

          It’s just something I often think about though I would like to let it go. But sometimes it haunts me.


Wednesday, February 21, 2024

That Was Weird . . . Wish there had been a way to scan the dream

 

               A couple of nights ago I had a dream about a salt grinder that doesn’t exist.  Last night I had a dream that I had forgotten details as I write.  In part I was searching for a book and had come across a whole bunch that had been put away for whatever reason.  Some I remembered but most I did not.  So I chose to set aside to look at with more effort (reading).

               The first one was a children’s book.  I don’t remember what it was called but my mom had made notes on various pages – in crayon.  It was interesting to see that.  Of course I don’t can’t remember anything about it now.  I do remember that the book was about a salt grinder which replaced a pestle and mortar.  (As though that would provide great material for a children’s book) and my mom had written her feelings toward the book.  I would have liked to photocopy it somehow.

               I woke up in a puzzled state.  Why would I dream about a salt grinder (if there is any such thing) one night and a children’s book about it the next?  My mom was somehow connected to both.  I have miss her a lot. If it were possible for me to talk to her long distance, I would definitely reach out to her. I doubt the afterlife works that way.