Happy Memories and Stages of Time

 In June 2009 we celebrated my mom's 70th birthday.  Sunny had made arrangements to invite friends and family members to a "surprise" birthday party for my mom. I don't recall how many came, but there was a lot.  Many from the ward, a few from work, and family members - Bill and Kayla had taken several pictures.  I would guess there were 50 - 70 people in all.

Corey gave a tribute and several sat in folded chairs that Sunny must have borrowed from the Church.  Mom was definitely surprised and she looked so happy.  She had already been diagnosed with dementia, but it was just the early stages.  She was well aware of what was going on.  And she knew everybody there.

Last November - before we put mom into assisted living - she was overwhelmed by the tremendous amount of people at our Thanksgiving dinner - all 18 of us.  So I thought she'd really freak when we took her to the ward Christmas dinner one month later because there were over 200 at that one.  But she smiled and pleasantly greeted everyone.  She was happy.  She was a little lost in her mind.  And the following month we put her into assisted living where she spent the next four months trying to escape. 

She was definitely happy last night. Sunny and her family had dropped by the assisted living to bring mom to the annual "Christmas in July" (which came late this year) and she was happy.  Happy to see relatives she hadn't seen "forever" or "it's been a long time" - Sunny told me that she said it had been years since she had seen me - and Sunny knows for a fact that I was there just the day prior.

Garrett received a new hair cut - causing him appear to be a tad bit older.  Mom kept commentting on what a cute little boy he is.  She also kept on asking who he was and who he belonged to. 

"That's your grandson.  That's Kayla's little boy."  

She remembers Anna.  But she doesn't often remember who Gary is.  Her dementia had taken over when he was born.  She was still living at home and had planned to walk to the hospital to see him and Kayla.  Walking to the hospital from my mom's house is possible, but not a casual walk.  It's a good two miles at least.  I tried to remind her of that.

"The hospital is not that far from my house and I can walk there if I want to!"

She was in her independent stage. A stage in which she believed her grown up children were treating her like a child.  A stage when she would wander off and actually walk that distance unintentionally.  A stage that kept all of us on our toes trying hard to watch her but allow her to believe that she still had her independance.

Sunny's last experience with taking her out of assisted living was an unpleasant one.  She said my mom was so distorted and unfamiliar with her surroundings and didn't know how she'd gotten to Sunny's house or why and wanted to go "home'  - referring to the assisted living.  She has accepted it as home.  That's where she lives and has for about 8 years (in her mind; seems like every month for the rest of us has been a year for her)

She excitedly told my aunt Fern about Harold - who when she first felt an attraction towards him had told Corey that Harold was a very old man - old enough to be her father.  She told Aunt Fern that she and Harold are actually very close in age.  She believes he is five years older.  (There is a ten year difference in actuality) 

It was so wonderful to see mom genuinely happy - even if she doesn't remember that Garrett is her grandson - not to mention several relatives who we actually don't see except maybe twice a year - if that.  She had a great time.  I don't know how much of it will stay with her.  I wonder what she will tell Corey about last night's events.

Another Look at Change

            Mom embellished on her “sky-diving” story – a bit with the realization that jumping out of an airplane is something she would never do.  In this version it was from a commercial airline with mechanical problems.  Mom said she didn’t want to, but it was the crew that had forced all of the passengers to jump.

          Harold told his story about going up in a stunt plane that did loop-to-loops.  They had fastened video cameras to each wing and had one in the cockpit.  This filmed every move that was made and then the three films were spliced together.  Harold said he had it on video tape.  But that it does tend to make most people sick when they watch it because it’s like being there.

            Corey had explained to the family that there are seven stages of dementia and that mom is in stage five.  I’m guessing Madge must only be in one or two.  Maybe it was her idea to check herself in so that she would get used to the place – so her children wouldn’t have to go through what we have gone through – to the same degree.  I don’t know.  I’d still like to have a visit with Madge and ask her questions that are actually none of my business.

            Nellie is a brand new residence.  I’m thinking she is in stage 6 as she seems further gone than mom but not as far gone as Lydia or Georgette.  Harold may just be in stage 4 and maybe starting stage 5 but I don’t know.  I’m really not as familiar with dementia as perhaps I should be.

            Corey has always been a walking encyclopedia.  I don’t know that he has an actual photographic memory, but I think it’s close.  He’s really well read.  He constantly researches matters at hand.  I think his brain holds more information than the average human being.

            The other day I joined my mom and my brother, Patrick, his wife, Sunny and their son-in-law, Nate for a pioneer barbeque.  We crowded around an outside table with mom and Harold.  I ended up giving him my plate and went back for another one as I thought it would be easier.

            Food was good.  Company was good.  The plate I had made for myself was really too large for Harold. It’s a wonder he ate as much as he did.

            After lunch had ended, we said our good-byes to Nate, Patrick and Sunny.  I told mom I would go back to her room to visit with her some more, but first I had to run out to the car for something.

           Upon my return, Nellie clung onto me.  “Are you almost ready to go?” she asked.  She was asking as though she was expecting to go with me.

           “Well, I came here to see my mom.”  I told her, wondering where her family might be and if I actually resembled someone she knows. 

          I made my way back to the court yard with Nellie only inches behind me. 

           “How are you doing Nellie” I heard someone say. 

           I hadn’t actually known what her name was until then.  I introduced her to mom and Harold and asked if they were all acquainted.  None were and Harold and mom didn’t seem interested in the least.  Actually, neither did Nellie.  She was anxious to be leaving – I don’t think she even cared who with. But then she would also stop at each chair and sit down as her back was hurting her.

Her personality screamed volumes that she was a resident there.  I hadn’t remembered seeing her before I didn’t think.  I hadn’t.  As it turned out she had just moved in the day before. My mom all over again.  Confused at being there and trying to escape.

I think Nellie is in worse shape than my mom.  But Harold seems a little more with it in the mind. Maybe not.  I think mom and Harold’s stories were both a little out there when I was visiting the time before.

It’s interesting to look at Madge and think, “My mom was there at one time.” And then to look disheartened upon Lydia and Georgette and think, “and that is where she will be someday”

Her rapid movement from stage to stage doesn’t seem as rapid since she’s been at an assisted living program and is monitored from day to day and has a better schedule there than the four of us were trying to provide for her at home.

Dementia stages are a chiasmus to our birth to death.  We start out totally dependent.  Someone else has to feed us and change our clothes and bathe us and clean up after us. 

We learn to walk and talk and learn and collect things.  We make discoveries.  But still we need guidance to keep us safe – someone to make certain that eat, reminding us to put on our coats and shoes, and stop us from climbing or wandering near something that could be potentially dangerous to our health.

Eventually we grow into teenagers who think they know it all and don’t wish to be told what to do.  We would like our independence and treat guidance like interference.  We still need someone to teach us how to drive, save money, make wise choices, etc.

The older we grow, the wiser our parents become – until we are the caregivers due to dementia.  Their wise words are only memories and may somehow be twisted in their heads.  Eventually they go through stages.  They rebel.  They hoard.  Sometimes they wander into danger.

Eventually they forget how to walk and talk.  They forget.  They become like newborns and are dependent on someone else to feed them, clothe them, bathe them and make sure they are kept safe.

Full Circle

Apparently He's NOT her Boyfriend

Today I read a conversation that took place between Corey and my mom.  She's upset that the workers at the facility seem to be sticking their noses into her affairs.  She wants her privacy and doesn't want the world watching her through open windows or open doors.  Therefore she keeps the blinds closed and leaves the door to her bedroom closed because she doesn't want anybody watching her.  Those who do are perverts.  And she swears when she returns to her room to find her blinds have been open.  Evidently she used the word "damn" in almost every sentence she said to Corey this afternoon.

Evidently Harold is NOT her boyfriend.  He is an old man.  Mom doesn't even call him Harold anymore.  He is that guy.  He is old enough to be her father - so she says.  I learned that he is twelve years older. 

Mom is on the younger end of those who reside at assisted living.  Harold's physical health seems to be far worse than mom's - but mentally he may be there - I don't mean totally.  Not like Madge.  But I think he retains things better than mom.  He understands when the staff knocks at the door and says that she has a phone call that she will be talking to Corey.  He understands that Corey is her son.  He remembered her birthday and somehow made arrangements for getting her this:

 

Sunny and Corey have been worried about mom being alone with Harold and have asked the staff to keep on eye on them.  But mom doesn't like it.  According to her it's not as if they would be doing anything such as making out.  She hasn't kissed him any differently than she might kiss her own father.  She hates the idea of someone treating her like a child.

She doesn't know that Corey made this request.  She doesn't know that Corey sent a letter to the driver's license division over a year and a half ago so that they could be the bad guys and he wouldn't jeapordize his relationship with her so that she would be/is angry with him.  (Correction made in comments)

I know that there have been a few instances when even his name was on her black list.  It has always been temporary however.  I doubt that his "golden child" image will ever be tarnished permanently.  At least I hope not.  We need strong ties somewhere.

Lately I feel like my name has been removed from the black list as well - but that's only when I'm visiting.  I don't know if she tells people I haven't been around much.  I do, after all, live in another city.  But not in those far away mountains like Kayla does.  Or so she believes.  Except for Corey, we all live approximately the same distance from mom - though we're all spread out in different directions. 

Mom just turned 74.  Anna's birthday is coming up soon.  She will be 3.

It’s Okay if You Want to Celebrate her Birthday Twice This Month

          I’m not really sure why I was the privileged one put on the mailing list for Alpine Ridge.  Perhaps I had made the request – but it would have been over four months ago.

          I received a letter last month informing me that I would have the opportunity to meet with a director and nurse if I had any questions concerning mom.  I assumed that my three sibs would be getting the same letter.  They never did.

          And just the other day, I received a calendar schedule for this month – first one that has come in the mail since January when we took mom there to live.  Really?  I remember asking about them back in March – but I never received a hard copy of one.  I did find one on the web and have looked at it and will still refer to it as I sometimes misplace my hard copy – but I am still puzzled at why I would receive these things and not my sibs. Surely they have that information for my brothers.

          I may have given my address to the director back in December – before we had even moved mom in.  Though I don’t remember having provided them with it.  But still.  That was six months ago!

          Anyway, the calendar has my mom’s birthday marked on the calendar for yesterday – but really it isn’t until the end of this month. I mentioned it to the activities director – just in case there was a mix up on her paper work.  Right now I don’t guess it really matters much when her birthday is celebrated or if celebrated at all. 

          Last month mom told me that she decided she was 62.

          “Oh, you decided that?”

          “Yes.  That is how old I am”

          Great.  That means she gave birth to me when I was only eleven.

          Yesterday she informed me that she is 174.  That is the same age at Harold.

A Little Romance . . .

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I went to Alpine Ridge where mom is staying.  I was surprised to see Harold sitting on her bed and visiting with her.  He was saying that he has six boys – while mom has only four children – two girls and two boys.  But she claims to have a lot more pictures than Harold.

I told her I had come to take her to a family dinner – but we had time to visit before we left.  Jenna’s eyes lit up when Harold mentioned Peanut Brittle.  He said he had been in a place before this one and they let him make peanut brittle in the microwave.  But one day the microwave started smoking and they never let him in the kitchen again.  And then he had to move.

Jenna absorbed it all – hanging on to his every word.  I decided that his mind works the same as mom’s and his time frame is different as well as some of his facts.  He said he wanted to take mom flying – not that he’s a pilot.  He wouldn’t be driving the plane, but would like to take mom up just the same.  He doesn’t know when, but it will be in Heber.  He asked me if that would be okay.  I said Sure.

Roland was coming straight from work, and I had asked him to meet us at Alpine Ridge so we could just take one car and return for the other when we brought mom back. He called from the parking lot when we arrived and asked us to come out.

So mom said her good-byes to me and Jenna. 

“But you’re going with us,” I said.

“But I have company.”

Fortunately Harold excused himself and said it was okay if she needed to go.  I reminded mom that her living brother would had come for a visit and would be joining us as well as Corey and Joh.  She was willing to leave Harold for Corey - afterall he is her favorite.

So Harold adjusted himself bent over his walker, and mom stood up and they kissed.  It was cute.  Reminded me of Jenna’s first day of Pre-school when she and Paul were holding hands.

I don’t think they’re more than just friends, but it was interesting to watch.

thoughts concerning mom and Tony

Yesterday I took mom to the hairdresser.

She said it was nice to see her hairdresser again as she hadn’t seen her for a long time . . . which she hadn’t.

As I drove her back to where she lives, she kept on asking who it was that had fixed her hair.

At Alpine Ridge she was greeted like a celebrity.  Everybody LOVED her hair.

She had to check the mirror again as she couldn’t remember.

“Who fixed my hair?” she asked again.

There was a noise coming from the next room.

The noise reminded me of a single bowling lane. 

Mom said she didn’t think that’s what it was.

Well, I knew that! That’s just what the sound reminded me of.

Mom tells me about the woman in the room next to hers.

Apparently they were the first two to live there.  No, not live.  They worked.  But Helen is getting slower.  She has . . .  well, she has . . .  she’s just slowing down.

“You’re all slowing down,” I thought..

Mom couldn’t remember the word “dementia”

Tony and Rochelle have been visiting.

They have to spread their time between two families.

They don’t always show within the hour that Tony says they will.

Usually not within the first four.

It’s not Tony’s fault.  But it is hard to make plans.

Plans for pictures and photographer.

I had made plans.  But Tony said there was a change.

So I decided that we would try again in February.

Evidently I hurt Tony’s feelings. I didn’t mean to.

They may have been on time at the park

But as they’d been wandering around, we didn’t actually see them until later.

But it wasn’t four hours later. 

But still – I can’t make plans for everybody.

I can only remind them.

I think Sunny was disappointed.  But I can’t count on Tony and Rochelle showing up on time.

And we’ve already had one family picture without Randy. 

Tony allowed himself to feel offended.  He’s trying to blame me for my comment.

And maybe I was out of line – but I also know he is hurting because there is truth in my comment.

We’ll do family pictures on Memorial Day – when Tony and Rochelle are back in Texas

But Corey and Joh will be here.  And so will my uncle.  My mother’s baby brother.  He is coming to see her.  That will be nice.  Tony and Rochelle may never meet him.  Well, not in this earth life anyway.

Corey seems more interested in family history now than he has ever been.

He particularly would like to have more information on my dad’s maternal side. 

I told him to ask our former neighbor.  Funny how George Bird would know more about our family than we do.  But his dad used to hang out with our great uncle.

I may be watching Ester this morning.  Or maybe not.  Tony may not want to leave her if he is upset.  I also volunteered to watch Anna and Garrett tonight.  If I have them all at the same time, perhaps I can get pictures of the four that I couldn’t get together in the park.  They won’t be professional like Bill’s would be.  It’s a little overcast thus far.  I may have to take pics indoors.  If I have them.  I haven’t even taken Jenna to school yet.  It’s a short day.  I forgot to mention that to Tony and Rochelle.

A Complete Turn-Around

Over two weeks ago I created this post about my continuing struggle with mom and her childish behavior – which is still there – but now in a more positive light.

It was just four days ago when I posted about taking mom to the eye doctors.  It was the day that I left a sign in her room which she now reads on a daily basis and applies it to her life.  I am so completely happy with the results – as we all are – or at least all who have visited during the four days.

Mom is more than just content.  She is happy.  Her conversations with each of us have included involvement and the pluses for living at Alpine Ridge and how going “home” would not be a wise thing – after the entire house would be empty – if it still exists.

It is easier for Corey to hide his smile behind the phone than it is for me to prevent the silent giggle in person.  She told Corey that she gets three meals a day and “they’re all free.  They don’t charge us a thing.”

 

I remember having “free” things when I was a kid and quite surprised about the billing system and credit cards that took that “free” magic away.  Of course mom will never see the bills or would remember that they do indeed exist.  I suppose she actually could make resident of the month now.  What a complete turn around.  What an incredible change in her behavior.  Gosh – wish we would have all thought to try this sooner.  Wish we would have hung the sign up along with the pictures the day she moved in.

She reads the sign to everybody.  She didn’t make it.  She doesn’t know who did.  But there it is and now it’s a part of her.  She is safe and she is at home.  And she seems to have lost any desire she had to even want to escape.

She told me that she doesn’t even go outside anymore.  But she does.  There are scenic tours scheduled to take place at least twice a week.  At least once a month there is a special outing.  This month they went to the planetarium.

“See, there you are by the moon.” I pointed to a picture.

“Oh, yes.  And I pushed that man in his wheel chair.”

Mom always has assignment for pushing somebody.  Mom is fine physically.  She can walk on her own, shower on her own (though she needs a reminder that she needs to take a shower) and can still answer questions on subjects that were learned before high school.  Sometimes she forgets names but sometimes she remembers. 

I am so grateful to see my mom participate and be happy and can finally allow me leave the facility with an understanding that I’ll be back.  And it’s okay.  She’s where she belongs, and she’s accepted that.

Producing Salty Water (and a LOT of it)

          This post reflects stirred emotions that between October and mid December 2012

          Poor mom.  For the most part we don’t know where she’s at.  The reality of her world is so far different from our own.

          In her mind, she believes that while State Street was under construction, she and all the other residences in her neighborhood were evacuated.  The construction crew had asked them to move somewhere else.  Mom doesn’t remember where it is that she moved – but she is back – along with many of her neighbors.  For a while she wanted to make certain that everybody knows she’s back.  Now she wants to go back to wherever she thinks she lived before.  She doesn’t know the address though – but she says it’s a house.

          She called Bill.  She always calls Bill’s cell phone when she’s trying to get a hold of Kayla.  She left a message to make Kayla aware that she was back in her old house.  Kayla called me to inform me of the events that had taken place.  I told her that Nate had posted his comment on file that all of mom’s children (and some spouses) all have access to.

I don’t know if she called Corey, or if Corey called her.  Same story.  Corey asked for her address.  Mom didn’t know.  She had to ask Sunny (who happened to be watching her) She returned to the phone and gave Corey the name of the city which she has lived for the last fifty years.

          Corey said that is the same address that all of us have and she didn’t need to call anyone else.  Mom was highly confused as to how everyone was aware of where she was but herself.  Sunny was super freaked out and had stayed longer than she usually does.

          Roland and I were on our way to pick up mom and take her to a dinner at the Church she attends.  I called to say we were on our way.  I guess I should have talked to Sunny instead of mom.  There was an accident on the Freeway.  It took us 20 minutes longer than normal.

          Sunny was wide eyed and felt a sense of relief when I walked through the door.  Mom was all ready to go.  I told her to head out to the car and I would be there momentarily.  Sunny expressed her concerns.  And I said I was a little hurt that mom hadn’t called me to tell me she was back.  That made Sunny laugh.  I’m glad I could give her that.

          Mom was fine at the party.  She wasn’t restless as she had been less than a month ago when it was just the family and she was overwhelmed by the tremendous amount of people.  I was overwhelmed by the huge turnout.  Between 240 -260 people.  We stayed for the whole event.  I hadn’t expected that.

          Patrick spent the night with mom as Nate and Ellen had gone out of town.  Not too long ago mom was independent and didn’t want to be babied.  She is, after all, a big girl and she can do things by herself.  Now she dreads the idea of being alone.  She often seems surprised by letters or people who show up at her door.  They think we all know where she used to live.  But it’s all in her mind.  She’s been in the same house for over 50 years.

          I met my husband 12 years ago.  Corey graduated from high school almost 20.  But for some reason she has the two crossing paths before Corey graduated.  For the most part I’ve been a pal that was raised in San Francisco alongside her – but there was one occasion that she did introduce me as her daughter – it was to a friend that was well aware of who I am – possibly better than mom does.

          Each time we mention the name of a state or country – she claims that she has been there.  It was always “just for a day” though.

          I didn’t want this to become a “dementia blog” any more than Corey wanted his to focus on dementia.  Actually dementia isn’t the biggest focus thus far as there are less than ten posts.  I can’t say I hope to have more – but as it will be on my mind I’m sure there will be more that mention the wretched thief.  There have been days when the dementia is really bad - moreso for me than my mom.  Sometimes I can take it with a grain of salt – and even laugh.  But often I am an emotional wreck.

          The neighbor across the street has a gathering of sisters once a week.  She suggested I bring mom but just drop her off and not stay myself.  But I wanted to visit.  I miss the socialization of those that I used to associate with.  Mom, who claimed she was bored, was not interested in going.  And if I persisted, she would become mean.

          So I cried.  I cried because I wasn’t invited.  I cried because mom was acting like a childish brat.  I cried because I was crying over something I couldn’t control.  I was pretty good about holding it in until we started playing games.  I took off the minute Nate returned home from school.

          That all took place in November and December.  Since Christmas, mom seems almost comatose at times.  Just as disheartening as trying to coax the child inside.  She lost her driver’s license over a year ago and became mean – well with me anyway.  I’m the one who had taken her to the Driver’s License renewal.

          There had been a few days when she had become her mother and greeted folks in a friendly way, without a care in the world.  And she was always pleasant when she went out with Sunny – at least in the beginning.  But Sunny has seen the mean side of my mom since. 

          Next week we have another family meeting.  Kayla and I are ready to take action.  Corey and Patrick both seemed to express a denial. But we may all be on the same page now.  Mom needs a community.  She needs a routine.  And the rest of us need to return to our roles of children and not the caregivers that we’ve become.

          I was so diligent about going through Jenna’s folder once she returned home from school – but have been quite slack for an entire year now.  I need my focus to be where it was.  I need to keep my mind clear of heavy tears.

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.

Yesterday's Turkey Dinner

          I started this blog on New Years of this year.  I was faithful to write every single day – or almost every day.  But when school ended, so did my once-a-day posts.  My focus had to be on Jenna.  And when school started back up, mom’s memory had deteriorated and so I seemingly started spending more time with her (especially when Corey had gone back to Las Vegas – where he is now registered as a permanent resident in the state of Nevada) and so I still haven’t gotten back to one a day. Perhaps I never will.

          Kayla and her two children met Jenna and me at my mom’s on the Thursday of Thanksgiving.  I had gone because it was my day and we had already celebrated Thanksgiving dinner with the family on the Saturday prior.  Kayla brought her kids because Bill wanted to clean the carpets.

          They had left the house about 1:00 to return home to make dishes for their Thanksgiving dinner with one of Bill’s sisters (the one who lives in Utah) and baby brother. 

          Roland was planning on doing dinner at 3:00 – but time got away from him, I guess.  I boiled potatoes and mashed them.  They were ready at two.  I don’t think I started the gravy until 3:00. 

          At 3:30 Jenna and “Grandma” and I got into the car and drove to my house for dinner.

          Mom seemed to enjoy Thursdays dinner more than the dinner we had on Saturday.  For one thing she was a lot more alert.  For another thing, dinner on Thursday was quite small.  Only five of us.  We had turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, biscuits and rolls, and green beans.  Ice cream for dessert. 

          After we had finished eating, Roland wanted to play spades.  I don’t know if my mom has even played spades before.  And explaining games to her is a chore as it is.  But we went with it.  Explaining the rules every time we dealt. 

          Randy and Carrie had dropped by.  I was surprised to see them.  They had come to see mom.  And Roland decided it would be fun to play spades in teams.  Randy said he wanted to play by himself – and so Roland decided that he would give him grandma’s handicap and would appear that he was playing by himself.

  

          She had bid three tricks at one time when Randy had nothing in his hand.  She probably could have taken them if she had thrown out her lowest spade rather than her highest. 

          When we were down to two cards Kevin leaned across the table and said, “Grandma, I thought you said you had three” (referring to the tricks)

          “I did.  And now I only have two” (referring to the cards left in her hand) everybody at the table (except for Randy and my mom) started laughing. And then mom smiled as the rest of us were laughing.  And Randy stared ahead in unbelief.

          After a few more rounds, Biff volunteered to take grandma home (as I don’t drive at night – otherwise I would have gone)

          It was actually not a good night for Randy (card wise) and actually a better night for me than usual.  When Randy announced that he and Carrie had to go, Biff and I were certain that the only reason why he left was because he was losing.  We both figured if he hadn’t gone so far down into the hole, he would have continued playing.

          Today I will take Jenna with me to Bill and Kayla’s where we will hang for most of the day.  Roland has some work ahead of him that will be accomplished easier if Jenna’s not around.  Plus I would really like to play games with them. 

          Jenna has a possible hair appointment.  I will call at 1:30 to verify.  If not, we will just stay longer with Bill and Kayla.  And if Roland finishes with what he needs to accomplish, maybe Bill and Kayla will come here for some more games afterwards (if I remember to take Roland’s turkey to their house for lunch, that alone could bring Bill back for more)

          I’m grateful that mom had a good day yesterday.  I’m happy to hear that Corey had a wonderful Thanksgiving.  I missed him.  But I’m happy for the opportunities that he has right now to get on with his life in Las Vegas.

Another Visit with Mom

She had just finished eating when I arrive.

I don’t bother to ask if she has checked her blood.

We go for a walk.

I point to a house where a family had lived

Many years ago.

I asked if she remembers.

She says that she does.  That’s good.

She didn’t have a clue on Saturday.

I take her to my house to eat lunch.

I put her at the computer while I prepare the food.

She enjoys viewing the pictures that Kayla had taken

And had posted to facebook.

I make some suggestions on how to complete the day

I ask if there is anywhere in particular where she would like to go.

She says she wants to go home. Just home.

Her mother was a homebody, too.

I take her back home with a reminder that I will have to leave again.

I have to go pick Jenna up from school.  I’d like her to go with me.

She doesn’t want to go.

Just as I’m about to leave, I decide I will call Nate and ask if he could pick up Jenna.

Nate married my niece.  They live in mom’s basement.

Mom is overwhelmed at the idea of my knowing Nate

And having his phone number is such a foreign concept to her.

Why would I have Nate’s phone number?

I cannot get a hold of him.  According to her, it’s just as well

How would he even recognize Jenna?

I look at her as though she has sprouted horns

I end up driving to Jenna’s school while mom takes a nap

Or so she claims.

Nate opens the door when Jenna and I return

Mom seems a little more with it than she had been after lunch.

She seemed fine before lunch.

Nate says he has to run an errand

Jenna hands me a sheet of paper and orders me to write a story

“What story?”

I’m so not in the mood for making up something

“I will tell you”

As she starts in with her own story of an alien visiting a factory she sees that I am

using a pen and writing in cursive

“Use a pencil, mom.  And don’t write in cursive!”

“You write it with a pencil.”

“Okay, fine.”

She gets another piece of paper and says she will write her story but now I have to write my own.

Grandma dismisses herself so she can “look outside for a minute”

I stop writing. One of us has to watch her.

Jenna and I take turns watching mom standing in the driveway observing the sky

And then she walks into the back yard expecting the weather will change.

It doesn’t.  She comes inside and announces that she would like to take a walk

but that it’s just too windy.

Personality number three.

Instantly she becomes another person as she retrieves her puzzle book and hunts for words.

Jenna and I continue writing.

Mine is a Christmas story.  Unpolished.

I will post it next month.  Most likely it will still be unpolished.

Nate returns. Jenna and I leave mom’s house to return home. 

Still worried about my mom.

And the Hunting Begins

          Mom is at the point – and actually has been for some time – where she needs 24/7 care.  Oh, there are some days where she actually seems like her old self – someone we could leave alone and believe she’ll be fine for the two hours that she will be by herself.  It’s always another “personality” that gets her lost.

          So we have taken upon ourselves the dreaded task of looking into assisted living – either or in or out of the house.  Corey would prefer in.  I think it may be time for mom to move on so that we can sell the house as that is what will be paying a good part of the expense. 

I had looked into one before – when Corey didn’t believe she was ready.  But I think he’s slowly realizing that he can’t undo the situation at hand and must face the possibility that we will have to move mom.

Corey and I went to a fabulous retirement home called “Sunrise” - that is where I would like Randy to put me should the need ever arise.  Actually, I expect that I will go before Roland.  But that’s beside the point.  Right now we are looking for  mom.  And we found a strong appreciation for what Sunrise has to offer. 

On mom’s budget we could keep her there for possibly over a year, but definitely not more than two.  We have to find something lower in price – unfortunately.  Because you really do get what you pay for in the way of Sunrise – so we’ll probably not get what we’re not paying for by putting her elsewhere.

Corey has scheduled to see some more places today and tomorrow.  And I’ve been invited to attend.  However today is my visit with mom and tomorrow I’ve scheduled an MRI and I’m not rescheduling.  It may be nothing – but I’ve already gambled on it for almost four weeks now.  But that will be another post.

Oh, the joys of growing old.  Most Life Insurances cannot be collected until one is deceased.  So really, why is it called “Life” insurance? There have been many who have put money into investments to assist with retirement age.  And many of those investments have been a gamble that has not paid well.  Many investments will not fork out more than two months worth of assisted living at Sunrise – maybe six at one that is less costly.

I feel so sorry for those who have no income or have lost their retirement due to the economy or those who have children who squander their savings only to have it gone when it is truly needed.

May we be able to find an assisted living that meets our expectations and may mom be able to adjust to it without too much emotion.  She doesn’t get what my brothers have already tried to explain to her.  I’m grateful that I didn’t have to try and explain it to her – I’m already an emotional boob as it is.

We can’t have mom wandering off.

Don’t Yell at Aunt Gertrude

         Somebody had suggested that someone take a mom for a drive to look at the fall.  Knowing my own vehicle wasn’t going to make it up the canyon (it actually was too sluggish to get near the base) I chose an alternate, perhaps a more scenic route and asked if she would like to visit my 91 year old great-aunt. 

          Aunt Trudy has ALWAYS been active.  Over the years she has become hard of hearing, but she is still sharp as ever with brand new driver’s license in hand.  She was so excited to see my mom and me (as it has been a while) and we visited just briefly.

          “Well, it was so good to see you,” my mom kept on saying – as though we’d be leaving fairly soon.  What was her problem?

          Aunt Trudy would ask a question which mom would answer – but in her quiet voice and then I would loudly repeat it for Aunt Trudy.  Mom excused herself again.  “Well, I need to get back home.”

          “What do you need to get home for?” I asked.

          “I just need to go home!” she yelled.

          “I guess our visit is over,” I said to Aunt Trudy, while trying my hardest to use an apologetic tone and expression.

          It hadn’t dawned on me until almost three hours later that my voice raising or yelling was the cause of what was bothering mom.  Corey confirmed that when he said she didn’t like loud noises.  That would explain the tension between her and Jenna – though all of us have complained that Jenna’s volume really can get too loud.  Our level of tolerance seems to be more civil than my mom’s. She gets frailer with each passing day.

          Daddy was frail before he left this earth.  But he still had his mind.  Mom’s physical condition is okay, but her mind is not.  That’s a lot harder, I think.  On us anyway.  I think it’s hard on her – but not the same way that physical pain is. Soon she’ll forget that there was any emotional pain.  She’ll resort back to a place where we just won’t be able to find her.  Often she already thinks that I grew up with her in San Francisco and is always surprised when she asks me and I tell her that I have never lived in San Francisco, only visited.

          I need to visit Aunt Trudy again – but without mom or with mom on one side of the room and me on the other.  I think I ought to invite Kayla and her two to come with me.  I don’t know that Aunt Trudy has ever seen Garrett.