This entry is inspired by a good friend's blog where I recently read about her own Mom Project...look for the link to "The Gaydi Project"
As I read my good friends' blog entry about her mother/daughter relationship it made me really really jealous. I have always been jealous of their relationship actually. Even though I know they both have their own strains with each other here and there, I envy the fact that Gaydi (The Mother) is so fun, so real, so independent in spirit, has such a great sense of self and sense of humor towards life and is so easy to talk to as a mother figure. I'm lucky to have her in MY life too. Just to give you an idea of the kind of relationship Gaydi and I have, we use the words "Fuck You" as a term of sincere endearment towards each other. But let me tell you why...
At one point during her daughter's and my adolescence together, there was a fine EARLY Sunday morning when Aaryn (The Daughter) did not come home, and was (if memory serves) with a boyfriend all night with whom she was NOT supposed to be. So, me being Aaryn's usual partner in crime, Gaydi called me to find out where she was, and I truly did not know. For my protection, Aaryn had purposely NOT told me of her whereabouts that night. When I told her that I didn't know where her daughter was Gaydi did NOT believe me. She let me know in no uncertain terms that she knew I was lying to her, that she didn't appreciate me "covering" for Aaryn and that she was NOT happy with me. I don't know still quite how I did it (it was probably the early hour and my fatigue) but somehow I managed to muster the balls to stand up for myself and the truth that I KNEW but SHE couldn't believe and for the first time ever in my adolescent life, I told an adult "Fuck You!" and hung up the phone! Needless to say, it was a little while before Gaydi and I made up, but we did. What I love most about this story is that it became such a positive thing between she and I. The fact that it is a now term of endearment shows me the level of authenticity between us and both of our abilities to stand up for ourselves and speak the truth and then ultimately, MOVE THE FUCK ON with life. I love that about My Other Mother. I miss having her in my life the way I did back then.
I try to bring authenticity into my own relationship with my mom now, but it's hard, really REALLY hard. We never really had that together. She's VERY different than Gaydi. There are times when I wonder if I'd be the same person if I didn't have My Other Mother. I think we all find that Other Mother. Or that other father. I was lucky in the respect that with my dad, I always had a close relationship and never needed Another Father. We always have been friends, dad and I. But mom and I were not so lucky. My folks got divorced when I was 14 and I was "stuck" living with mom. Not ONLY did we live together but she decided to go back to work...at MY HIGH SCHOOL! Thanks mom! Thanks for the bitterness over dad, thanks for being so vocal about what a jerk you think he is, thanks for not acknowledging AT ALL that his leaving had anything to do with YOU, thanks for being in my life 24/7 at a time when you are driving me up the wall! Mom had a hard time being authentic with herself, had a harder time confronting anyone and so authenticity in our relationship seemed to go one way...from me to her and there it would stop short.
Well, you might have guessed by now that mom and I didn't have a close relationship. Not only was I daddy's girl to begin with but when they divorced and mom and I got stuck with each other it got worse...we became LESS close. I'm sure it's always been hard on her, watching how close my dad and I are, but then to get stuck with me at a time when she really needed an ally AGAINST him...must have been a real blow. Well, I didn't make it any easier on her. I partied, I started smoking...just like dad did. I let her know in no uncertain terms that he left HER and not me. One day right after he moved out, she and I drove to our dry cleaners to pick up some of her clothes. The attendant, who had known our family forever asked her if she wanted to also pick up dad's shirts. She said "Oh no, I won't be picking up his shirts anymore, he left us!" She said that to the DRY CLEANER for God's sake! I immediately sat forward and loudly said "He didn't leave US, he left YOU!" Silence filled the car. The poor dry cleaner guy just stood there. That was a benchmark for she and I. It was clear that we were in different camps and that I knew what was up and wanted her to know that I did. I wasn't buying into her smear campaign against him to the community at large. She continued her campaign and still does to this day even though she can hardly speak anymore. She still says once in a while "he's gay." But then now, now that her brain is so affected with Picks Disease, she'll turn right around the next minute and say "I miss him." or "He's in bed with me." or some other odd phrase that has taken hold in her brain and won't let go. Oh therapy...would have been great if she'd really gotten some to help her cope with all those feelings back when they were at their most intense and causing her such enormous grief. Now unfortunately, it's too late. Therapy is not an option. Now that her brain is no longer functioning on so many levels, conversations don't happen. It's very sad. But back to our time together, post divorce and stuck together.
I thumbed my nose at her wimpy attempts at authority over me. I saw what a pushover she was with me and I used it. I had NO respect for her and didn't plan to. I was essentially a good kid, even though I experimented with drugs some, smoked cigarettes as a minor and learned to party. I got basically good grades, attended classes and stayed on the "right path." I think mostly I did this because I respected my dad's wishes and authority because I knew what he expected from me and more than that, I knew what he wanted FOR me. He told my brother and sister and I the same thing: "Stay in school and don't do drugs and I'll pay for your college." Well, I think ALL of us did some drugs, ALL of us partied to an extent but we did all stay in school. But I remember his request and I think that it set up a sense of authority to me that I respected. It sounds like I didn't since I did experiment with drugs, but I remembered that he expected something from me. I think it helped me push myself in school and it helped me think a bit more before I acted. It helped me respect myself more than anything. For example, I steered clear of sleeping with anyone until I was 21 and I think in part that was because of what he wanted for me. And now, as I've settled into adulthood and left the party scene I look back on that time and think that perhaps I did drugs in part to simply rebel against my mom...a woman who drove my beloved dad out of the house.
When I think back on it, I think that mom must have been so overwhelmed with the loss of her married self that she couldn't really do much in the parenting arena. Her other two kids were raised and out of the house and I think I was more than she could handle at the time. Her plate was full. She was back in the working world and freshly divorced. That's enough for anyone. Let alone having a snotty daughter telling you how it really is.
So now here we are...roomates again. Only this time, it's my house, she's the child, she's the one who needs reminding on appropriate behavior and staying safe, brushing her teeth and wiping her bum, helping her remember that to take a pill you have to put it in your mouth first, then take a drink of water and THEN you have to swallow...I'm the one paying the bills and getting the groceries and driving everywhere for her, she's thumbing her nose at MY authority, I'm changing HER diapers...something that was a long time coming, I'm sure.
The sad part is that since I'm married now, to add insult to injury, there are tears in her eyes every time my husband kisses me. She has to live with a couple...a reminder that even though she's here with us, she's still alone...she's still divorced. That cross to bear will always be with her and I can't change it. No one can. Especially her.
So what's the moral of this story? Who knows. I just still find myself wishing that I had ever had the kind of relationship with her that would inspire adventures like the one described by Aaryn in "The Gaydi Project." To those women out there who have a friendship of any kind with their moms...ENJOY it! Enjoy it even if it's a memory.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Monday, December 10, 2007
Up and Down with Picks
Caregiver #2...the husband said:
She sleeps all day sometimes. Come in, sit down, watch tv with us, five minutes later, get up, pace down the hallway, into her room again, lie down. Five minutes later, get up come in, watch tv, get up, pace again, walk back to room, lie down. Over and over and over. Start to say something, we hear partial words, partial sentences...something other than "it does feel good" which perks us up..."what is she trying to say?" we ask her, "what was that mom?" "it does feel good" "what were you trying to say?" "It DOES feel good, it does feel good it does feel good feel good it does feel good."
Once in a while, "I want dinner, I want dinner. it does feel good it does feel good"
And on and on. And on.
OH yes, and then there's the nose picking. WithOUT a kleenex! We say "get a kleenex mom" and she'll walk away, NOT get a kleenex and say "it does feel good" and laugh at our crazy suggestion to get a kleenex. Oy!
just a day in the life. so many odd behaviors.
She does get excited when I light a fire. The beauty of it all is overwhelming to her. There are sometimes tears of joy at the simple pleasures. Those things are nice affirmations of her happiness here with us.
She sleeps all day sometimes. Come in, sit down, watch tv with us, five minutes later, get up, pace down the hallway, into her room again, lie down. Five minutes later, get up come in, watch tv, get up, pace again, walk back to room, lie down. Over and over and over. Start to say something, we hear partial words, partial sentences...something other than "it does feel good" which perks us up..."what is she trying to say?" we ask her, "what was that mom?" "it does feel good" "what were you trying to say?" "It DOES feel good, it does feel good it does feel good feel good it does feel good."
Once in a while, "I want dinner, I want dinner. it does feel good it does feel good"
And on and on. And on.
OH yes, and then there's the nose picking. WithOUT a kleenex! We say "get a kleenex mom" and she'll walk away, NOT get a kleenex and say "it does feel good" and laugh at our crazy suggestion to get a kleenex. Oy!
just a day in the life. so many odd behaviors.
She does get excited when I light a fire. The beauty of it all is overwhelming to her. There are sometimes tears of joy at the simple pleasures. Those things are nice affirmations of her happiness here with us.
She's losing her MIND!
And I'm not talking about the Pick's PATIENT here...I'm talking about the caregiver.
Oh My God! I awoke this morning to another very wired, very peppy, very talkative mother. The care aid tells me that mom didn't sleep a wink...again! Now mind you, she does get in naps during the day, so she is getting sleep and she doesn't always have sleepless nights but every so often, this is what i awake to. She is like a buzzing bee...so totally tickled at the fact that she's kept the night aid "on the run" all night and has essentially gotten her way all night, doing whatever, eating whenever, setting the house alarm off whenever...it's the whole "bad attention is just as fun as good attention" thing. LIKE A 2 YEAR OLD, I'm tellin' you! At least they seem to have fun together and the care aid doesn't seem put out and she's getting paid so what am I complaining about?
It makes it harder for me to "reign her in" during my day shift but mostly it just pisses me off. I don't want to deny her the fun time she has at night with her favorite care aid but I also feel as though mom is taking full advantage of this nice woman and her willingness to help. It's as though she gets a kick out of messing with her by being a total out of control little brat! I wake up to this and have an instant urge to scold. LOVELY way to start my day...scolding? This is my life...how did this become my life?
I guess I just need to focus on being grateful: for the fact that despite them being up all night, my husband and I can still sleep; for the fact that they are having a FUN time for the most part together; for the fact when she has sleepless nights that makes her take longer naps during the day when I'm on the clock; for the fact that we have care aids at all! I don't want to deny her happiness I think it just kind of sickens me to think that she's having so much fun manipulating a person who genuinely likes caring for her. It kind of turns my stomach. And what kills me, is that mom KNOWS I am on to her! She sees me in the morning and looks at me like a child who has just done something naughty...SO BUSTED.
I have to explain part of why I think last night was another sleepless night. My father in law stayed with her for one hour while my husband and I ran some errands yesterday. He ended up taking a little cat nap and while the cat's asleep...remember how that mouse does play? Mom found a brand new, large sized coffemate creamer...vanilla flavor. Imagine drinking heavy cream, sweetened with vanilla. (gagging noise) Not only did she pour it into her 5th bowl of cereal of the day...she then drank a LARGE glass of it...polishing it off! Yes, she drank an entire bottle of coffemate in less than one hour. Can you say heart attack? Can you say throw up! Can you say diarrhea, all night! Note to self, hide the coffeemate better next time.
Now this woman can't finish a sentence, can't remember to put her diaper on BEFORE her pants, can't remember to flush, turn lights off, was her hands, brush her teeth, brush her hair, walks around the house in nothing but a diaper occasionally, puts shoes on the kitchen counter, and cannot stop saying "it does feel good" until you want to shove a pair of socks in her mouth...! Hell, she sometimes can't remember how to SWALLOW a PILL anymore! BUT, she CAN locate hidden food that she wants no matter where we stash it, whether or not she even KNOWS we have it in the house, she'll find the damn stuff. She has Sweet Stuff Radar! What she CAN do is pour 50 million bowls of cereal a day all by little herself. Find the bowl, find the spoon, find the milk (or something like it) she truthfully is VERY capable. Oh she's growing up so FAST! It seems that as long as it has to do with food, she's all over it. But, if it has to do with saying "thank you" after you prepare a meal for her, forget it man! All of a sudden, she's got Pick's disease again.
Yesterday, after the coffeemate episode and before the care aid arrived, I helped her with the beginning of the Bowel Marathon. I was doing my little lecture on the evils of drinking too much coffeemate and all of a sudden...she spoke! "I have Pick's Disease." Oooo, I just wanted to scream! I'm thinking, "My MY aren't we articulate and saying things that seem appropriate all of a sudden? NO SHIT you have Pick's Disease woman, for crying out loud, I GET IT!!! But isn't interesting how the symptoms of Picks seem to come and go, how when you want to play dumb, you do and when you want to use brain function to accomplish food-getting tasks, you can?"
See what I mean...I'm losing MY mind.
What really kills me though (and this is something I try to work on every day and don't always or often succeed) is how I'M reacting to her. I find myself getting so negative sometimes, so irritated, so frustrated, and so focused on her doing what I DON'T want her to do...and guess what she does. Bingo! I'm focusing almost all day lately on what I don't want and getting more and more of it. All the while wishing and wishing for a different day to day, where she doesn't drive me nuts but getting more of the same. So what helps? Well, writing this blog helps, getting it out of my head helps. Letting it go to an extent. But how do I turn it all around? Well, the other day I made a list. A list of what I don't want anymore. On it, I tried to focus my statements on myself, things like "I don't want to stress over mom's behavior anymore." I did that because I do not have control over any other human being, no matter how much I wish I could, I can't control what she will do. Especially now when her brain is totally cross-wired. What was nice about wording my "don't wants" that way was that it instantly became more within my control. I'm the one stressing, so I am the one who can change that don't want. So how to stop stressing? It obviously didn't work this morning. Do I say to myself "Hey, if she wants to end her life drinking too much coffeemate and eating all day long, so be it. It's her life and we know it's limited at this point, so it's up to her and the powers that be to determine HOW she goes." Pretty much that's what I said, that's what my brother and sister and what mom's doctor said. She may as well go out doing something she really enjoys and eating is it. So what if she grows to be 200 lbs? It's not MY choice but hey, it might be hers. But then I think "Ok, her brain is totally messed up from Picks. So if her impulse control center is shot, and her short-term memory is shot, then she probably can't stop herself from eating too much or drinking lard or whatever it is, so is that my job to help her stop since she can't?" A person could go nuts thinking about all of this.
For now, I'm choosing to let myself help her with impulse control when I can, and when I can't, I don't worry. I try to say "Oh well" instead of "Oh shit!" and get on with my day.
Calgon, take me away!
Oh My God! I awoke this morning to another very wired, very peppy, very talkative mother. The care aid tells me that mom didn't sleep a wink...again! Now mind you, she does get in naps during the day, so she is getting sleep and she doesn't always have sleepless nights but every so often, this is what i awake to. She is like a buzzing bee...so totally tickled at the fact that she's kept the night aid "on the run" all night and has essentially gotten her way all night, doing whatever, eating whenever, setting the house alarm off whenever...it's the whole "bad attention is just as fun as good attention" thing. LIKE A 2 YEAR OLD, I'm tellin' you! At least they seem to have fun together and the care aid doesn't seem put out and she's getting paid so what am I complaining about?
It makes it harder for me to "reign her in" during my day shift but mostly it just pisses me off. I don't want to deny her the fun time she has at night with her favorite care aid but I also feel as though mom is taking full advantage of this nice woman and her willingness to help. It's as though she gets a kick out of messing with her by being a total out of control little brat! I wake up to this and have an instant urge to scold. LOVELY way to start my day...scolding? This is my life...how did this become my life?
I guess I just need to focus on being grateful: for the fact that despite them being up all night, my husband and I can still sleep; for the fact that they are having a FUN time for the most part together; for the fact when she has sleepless nights that makes her take longer naps during the day when I'm on the clock; for the fact that we have care aids at all! I don't want to deny her happiness I think it just kind of sickens me to think that she's having so much fun manipulating a person who genuinely likes caring for her. It kind of turns my stomach. And what kills me, is that mom KNOWS I am on to her! She sees me in the morning and looks at me like a child who has just done something naughty...SO BUSTED.
I have to explain part of why I think last night was another sleepless night. My father in law stayed with her for one hour while my husband and I ran some errands yesterday. He ended up taking a little cat nap and while the cat's asleep...remember how that mouse does play? Mom found a brand new, large sized coffemate creamer...vanilla flavor. Imagine drinking heavy cream, sweetened with vanilla. (gagging noise) Not only did she pour it into her 5th bowl of cereal of the day...she then drank a LARGE glass of it...polishing it off! Yes, she drank an entire bottle of coffemate in less than one hour. Can you say heart attack? Can you say throw up! Can you say diarrhea, all night! Note to self, hide the coffeemate better next time.
Now this woman can't finish a sentence, can't remember to put her diaper on BEFORE her pants, can't remember to flush, turn lights off, was her hands, brush her teeth, brush her hair, walks around the house in nothing but a diaper occasionally, puts shoes on the kitchen counter, and cannot stop saying "it does feel good" until you want to shove a pair of socks in her mouth...! Hell, she sometimes can't remember how to SWALLOW a PILL anymore! BUT, she CAN locate hidden food that she wants no matter where we stash it, whether or not she even KNOWS we have it in the house, she'll find the damn stuff. She has Sweet Stuff Radar! What she CAN do is pour 50 million bowls of cereal a day all by little herself. Find the bowl, find the spoon, find the milk (or something like it) she truthfully is VERY capable. Oh she's growing up so FAST! It seems that as long as it has to do with food, she's all over it. But, if it has to do with saying "thank you" after you prepare a meal for her, forget it man! All of a sudden, she's got Pick's disease again.
Yesterday, after the coffeemate episode and before the care aid arrived, I helped her with the beginning of the Bowel Marathon. I was doing my little lecture on the evils of drinking too much coffeemate and all of a sudden...she spoke! "I have Pick's Disease." Oooo, I just wanted to scream! I'm thinking, "My MY aren't we articulate and saying things that seem appropriate all of a sudden? NO SHIT you have Pick's Disease woman, for crying out loud, I GET IT!!! But isn't interesting how the symptoms of Picks seem to come and go, how when you want to play dumb, you do and when you want to use brain function to accomplish food-getting tasks, you can?"
See what I mean...I'm losing MY mind.
What really kills me though (and this is something I try to work on every day and don't always or often succeed) is how I'M reacting to her. I find myself getting so negative sometimes, so irritated, so frustrated, and so focused on her doing what I DON'T want her to do...and guess what she does. Bingo! I'm focusing almost all day lately on what I don't want and getting more and more of it. All the while wishing and wishing for a different day to day, where she doesn't drive me nuts but getting more of the same. So what helps? Well, writing this blog helps, getting it out of my head helps. Letting it go to an extent. But how do I turn it all around? Well, the other day I made a list. A list of what I don't want anymore. On it, I tried to focus my statements on myself, things like "I don't want to stress over mom's behavior anymore." I did that because I do not have control over any other human being, no matter how much I wish I could, I can't control what she will do. Especially now when her brain is totally cross-wired. What was nice about wording my "don't wants" that way was that it instantly became more within my control. I'm the one stressing, so I am the one who can change that don't want. So how to stop stressing? It obviously didn't work this morning. Do I say to myself "Hey, if she wants to end her life drinking too much coffeemate and eating all day long, so be it. It's her life and we know it's limited at this point, so it's up to her and the powers that be to determine HOW she goes." Pretty much that's what I said, that's what my brother and sister and what mom's doctor said. She may as well go out doing something she really enjoys and eating is it. So what if she grows to be 200 lbs? It's not MY choice but hey, it might be hers. But then I think "Ok, her brain is totally messed up from Picks. So if her impulse control center is shot, and her short-term memory is shot, then she probably can't stop herself from eating too much or drinking lard or whatever it is, so is that my job to help her stop since she can't?" A person could go nuts thinking about all of this.
For now, I'm choosing to let myself help her with impulse control when I can, and when I can't, I don't worry. I try to say "Oh well" instead of "Oh shit!" and get on with my day.
Calgon, take me away!
Thursday, October 25, 2007
The Birthday Buddah
A few weeks ago, my mother bought me a Buddah. A very lovely, simple Tibetan looking stone Buddah made out of a greenish-gray color stone. It sits about 12 inches high in it's peaceful lotus position sitting on a small old table I've had for years, breathing new life into an old, but cherished piece of very small furniture. It's watching my back right now, as I write this, offering a sense of peace, of quiet, happy solitude in a time when I need it the most. It is without a doubt the best material (if you can call it that) gift she has ever bought for me. It is also the first gift for as long as I can remember that I actually wanted.
Mom is notorious for buying WAY too many Christmas gifts for us all every year and every birthday. Oftentimes, they were "gifts with purchase" or from some odd mail order place that was barraging her with advertisments and temtations on how to "show" her love to us all. Mom has always been very generous, but not always very good at finding out or guessing what we really wanted. So this year, I felt lucky to be in a position where I really kind of had to help her decide what to get me. We looked and looked. I knew I wanted a Buddah. I didn't know at the time how damn much I NEEDED the Buddah. But that's how things seem to be working out lately. The Divine seems to be providing just what we NEED right at the time we need it the most. I could go on and on about how much synchronicity is occuring in not only my life but just about everyone I know. It's funny how it works that way, eh?
Anyway, so we go to the first shop. One I was SURE would have the Buddah of my dreams. We looked and looked. Mom sat and sat while I walked around this ENORMOUS store, continually coming back to check on her and let her know I was still there. No dice. We were also on the prowl for a bird bath for my father, her ex, whose birthday falls the day after mine...every year. SO, we find nothing at this store in which I'm CONVINCED we should have found both items. But no. However, mom does find this little bronze statue, for $10 bucks. She wants very much to buy it for dad. I tell her:
"Mom, remember, dad doesn't want ANY knick-knacks for his house. He really DOES want something for his yard though, remember?"
"It does feel good to get that."
"Well, that's not something dad would like."
"It does feel good to get that."
So I say, "Do you want to get that for you?"
"It does feel good to get that."
Well, this little bronze statue looks EXACTLY like my mom...if she had no facial features, just a round head, were made of bronze, about 3 inches tall and sitting in lotus position. It even has her big belly and no shoulders. So I think, "Maybe this IS something she wants for herself. And it's only $10 bucks. What the hell. Let's get it. If she wants it, fine."
So we take it home and decide to look for birthday gifts another day.
Another day.
I remember a little shop my dad has taken me to that has loads of cool stuff for gardens. So we go. This TINY little shop where mom can SEE me wherever I am looking happens to have not ONLY the perfect birdbath AND the perfect Buddah and both quite reasonably priced but they had two other small items, also perfect that mom picked out...all by herself. She finds one of them because I was looking at it, a small rock with the words carved in it "Love Grows Love" and says "it does feel good to get that." It being a trinket, I grab it for our garden. The other, she walks casually by a table and almost without looking, points to a small stone necklace on a black rope. The stone portion is a circle with the yin and yang sign on it in two different shades of blue. She says again "it does feel good to get that" and I'm thinking "yea yea, let's keep moving" and then I look down and see what she's talking about and I myself couldn't have chosen a more perfect gift for myself. It is a style that I LOVE and the size is right and the length of it is perfect and it's the symbol I most relate with. I've always thought of my relationship with my husband in terms of the yin and yang because we are so different in so many ways. We happened to be in a situation right then where I really needed to be reminded that our differences were also an asset to our relationship and she found it. It was a real first. The first time she found something soooooo perfect, and her mind was almost completely gone when it happened. Ironic.
Mom is notorious for buying WAY too many Christmas gifts for us all every year and every birthday. Oftentimes, they were "gifts with purchase" or from some odd mail order place that was barraging her with advertisments and temtations on how to "show" her love to us all. Mom has always been very generous, but not always very good at finding out or guessing what we really wanted. So this year, I felt lucky to be in a position where I really kind of had to help her decide what to get me. We looked and looked. I knew I wanted a Buddah. I didn't know at the time how damn much I NEEDED the Buddah. But that's how things seem to be working out lately. The Divine seems to be providing just what we NEED right at the time we need it the most. I could go on and on about how much synchronicity is occuring in not only my life but just about everyone I know. It's funny how it works that way, eh?
Anyway, so we go to the first shop. One I was SURE would have the Buddah of my dreams. We looked and looked. Mom sat and sat while I walked around this ENORMOUS store, continually coming back to check on her and let her know I was still there. No dice. We were also on the prowl for a bird bath for my father, her ex, whose birthday falls the day after mine...every year. SO, we find nothing at this store in which I'm CONVINCED we should have found both items. But no. However, mom does find this little bronze statue, for $10 bucks. She wants very much to buy it for dad. I tell her:
"Mom, remember, dad doesn't want ANY knick-knacks for his house. He really DOES want something for his yard though, remember?"
"It does feel good to get that."
"Well, that's not something dad would like."
"It does feel good to get that."
So I say, "Do you want to get that for you?"
"It does feel good to get that."
Well, this little bronze statue looks EXACTLY like my mom...if she had no facial features, just a round head, were made of bronze, about 3 inches tall and sitting in lotus position. It even has her big belly and no shoulders. So I think, "Maybe this IS something she wants for herself. And it's only $10 bucks. What the hell. Let's get it. If she wants it, fine."
So we take it home and decide to look for birthday gifts another day.
Another day.
I remember a little shop my dad has taken me to that has loads of cool stuff for gardens. So we go. This TINY little shop where mom can SEE me wherever I am looking happens to have not ONLY the perfect birdbath AND the perfect Buddah and both quite reasonably priced but they had two other small items, also perfect that mom picked out...all by herself. She finds one of them because I was looking at it, a small rock with the words carved in it "Love Grows Love" and says "it does feel good to get that." It being a trinket, I grab it for our garden. The other, she walks casually by a table and almost without looking, points to a small stone necklace on a black rope. The stone portion is a circle with the yin and yang sign on it in two different shades of blue. She says again "it does feel good to get that" and I'm thinking "yea yea, let's keep moving" and then I look down and see what she's talking about and I myself couldn't have chosen a more perfect gift for myself. It is a style that I LOVE and the size is right and the length of it is perfect and it's the symbol I most relate with. I've always thought of my relationship with my husband in terms of the yin and yang because we are so different in so many ways. We happened to be in a situation right then where I really needed to be reminded that our differences were also an asset to our relationship and she found it. It was a real first. The first time she found something soooooo perfect, and her mind was almost completely gone when it happened. Ironic.
She's Shooting Blanks!
Ahh, the mind. A person who has impaired communication skills can sometimes come up with the most interesting word choices to describe something. Every time mom visits the lady's room, I follow. And every time, I ask her to show me her diaper so that I can see what needs to be done, if anything. Most of the time we change it. But when we don't need to, obviously, we don't. Well mom has coined a new word for a 'clean' diaper:
"It's blank."
"It's blank."
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
When the Cat's Away...
That little mouse...does play! Not five minutes after one of our beloved night time care aids arrived, mom came walking into the living room, saw that the (still somewhat new) night shift had arrived and knew that the fun could begin! She said..."I don't want you to come into my bedroom tonight, I'm in bed with my lover!" The care aid, whom I will call Cindy, and I were both sort of stunned. There was a pause, as mom enjoyed our quiet reaction, smiled at her little "bomb" of a statement, and returned to her bedroom. Cindy and I turned to look at each other, and just quietly laughed. I said, "Well, welcome to work!"
Mom seems to delight in shocking new folks. Or at least, folks who are not me. She knows now that I don't Play Dat Game as it were, and that I know when she's "all there" and pullin' my leg. It's like as soon as someone new arrives to help her, she pulls the cork off of her inhibitions and goes for it. The best part was having Cindy there to laugh with! I think I was able to pull my own "cork" in a way and let loose with the emotion over it all. It was nice.
Lesson learned: Find your moments to let it rip!
Mom seems to delight in shocking new folks. Or at least, folks who are not me. She knows now that I don't Play Dat Game as it were, and that I know when she's "all there" and pullin' my leg. It's like as soon as someone new arrives to help her, she pulls the cork off of her inhibitions and goes for it. The best part was having Cindy there to laugh with! I think I was able to pull my own "cork" in a way and let loose with the emotion over it all. It was nice.
Lesson learned: Find your moments to let it rip!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
The Grass Is Always Greener...
Ahhh. I wish I could do THAT instead! Wait, now I'm doing that...but I really wish I could do that OTHER thing now! Ahh, now I'm doing that other thing, but I really want to do that OTHER thing now! Now I want to do the first thing I was doing again...and on and on and on. So are our days with Picks on the brain. It seems as though unless mom is sleeping, she is in a constant state of feeling uneasy, not ever really comfortable for long periods of time. Today, it seemed as though she wanted to change rooms and activities every 5 minutes!!! It took me about 3 hours to read and reply to 5 short emails with five short responses because we were either in the bathroom, or changing activities, never feeling settled.
It must be exhausting for her. That feeling of never feeling settled, like she's in the right place, doing the right thing for any length of time. We tried walking, coloring, puzzles, writing, watching tv, watching movies...this last 7 minutes of the Simpsons' seems to be sticking for now. Although when we tried that an hour ago, no dice...about 5 minutes and she was up again! What's trickiest about this is that mom requires 24 hour oxygen and forgets to bring it with her when she changes locations so I tend to follow her from room to room with her O2 and her H2O (she needs to drink more water these days due to medications). She's like teflon...nothing seems to stick!
What's tricky too is that it is making me the same way. I think today is the first day in a week that I've sat down to write. I can't seem to find my own sense of focus. I have begun to wander a bit, not really getting much done. I make the necessary phone calls and do the necessary chores around the house and trips to the store but no projects. And here I was hoping this would be my time for getting some of those long awaited projects DONE! Perhaps not. Pardonay Moi as she is one the move...AGAIN! I think we made it about 10 minutes that time! Oy.
It's harder to care for someone when not only can they NOT communicate their needs to you very well but they never seem to feel settled. I feel responsible for her lack of comfort. She is warm, fed, clean, safe and has comforts around her but her constant state of agitation is palpable. She's like a child you need to keep safe and occupied who doesn't have the mental capacity to focus and so she's always on the move. No stroller or crib to set her in while you shower. Speaking of...hope the hubby returns soon as I'm beginning to RIPEN here in front of the computer!
Ahh good. Hunger. That'll keep her focused for about 10 minutes!!! Yay.
On a side note, the other constant lately is her being on the precipise of major coughing fits where she can barely get air IN, turns red, gasps for air, and scares me nearly to death. She has seemed to develop a lot of mucus and is on an expectorant to deal with that, but as a result, when she is coughing a lot of that up, she damn-near drowns in it as she has forgotten how to get it out. I take for granted that when I hock up a loagie, I have the sense and the strength to spit the damn thing OUT! She does not. It requires a lot of hands on side coaching...and a bucket. Just one more of the daily "scary-waries." What's more horrifying is that for all these recent months before she moved in, she was alone when all of this daily stuff went on...no wonder we almost lost her in August.
Anyway, back to the title of this posting: All of mom's wandering makes me wander, I mean wonder, about my own sense of focus in life. While I can get the task at hand accomplished, over the last few years or so I seem to have lost my direction. Thankfully not to the extent of mom, and not BECAUSE of her...but nonetheless...where'd it go? I once prided myself and even received compliments from friends and colleagues on my ability to focus in life and "go for it." I once was a person who set out goals, high ones, and then just like, did it, got it done man. Three snaps! No more baby. I think back on that time and wonder what happened for me to get off track? I could blame falling in love, as I'm sure is the case, and then getting into our dream house and fixing it up, slowly fixing it up, and then focusing on mom's health...but is that really fair? Can I blame external influences on my inner sense of who I am and what I want to accomplish with my life? I think not. I wonder how it all happened and I want to know how to find it again, how to get that sense of inner drive and that feeling of knowing that I'm in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. I think that's partly why I started this blog. I mean, I know I'm in the right place doing the right thing for mom and there is really nothing I'd think I SHOULD be doing instead of this (other than SHOWERING...sorry, just waiting for that hubby to return). I dunno. It's just that feeling...like something is on hold. It comes and goes. When I think about it, I know a lot of people who have "gotten off track" so-to-speak. Off track from their original dream, the big one...the one that makes you feel really alive! I know what it is still...or should I say...again. I think for awhile, I really lost it. When I'd think back on past goals, they didn't do anything for me. I wasn't sure if my "big dream" was still the thing that got me all happy inside. But, when I dip my foot in that "pool" though lately, it still makes me shiver just a bit, a good shiver, enough that I think it still holds high value to me and my spirit. And that "does feel good."
I think maybe, just maybe, mom had a LOT of things in life that made her feel really good. I also think that recently, and as long as over 20 years ago, she started losing those things. They are now memories of what felt good. Maybe she is on the hunt in a way, always moving, never holding still, searching for just ONE of those things to have back in her life. The marriage, gone, the house, almost gone, the independance, gone, the career, gone, the friends...to an extent...much as I hate to say it...gone. But what I hope will keep her "warm" is that once upon a time, she did done good! She did SO MUCH good! But I'll bet it was hard to be so active and on the go and independant and then have it all come to a screeching halt. Leaves you feeling..."unsettled" anyone?
So how to help one find a sense of peace when life is full of No Landing Spot? I have yet to discover the answer to that one. Can't quite even answer it for myself right now. Just grateful when the oh so animated Simpson family can hold her attention for a spell, and even if it can't inspire her to laughter, it can take me by surprise every so often. I must write a fan letter.
As always, comments are welcome.
Forever in motion...the caregiver.
It must be exhausting for her. That feeling of never feeling settled, like she's in the right place, doing the right thing for any length of time. We tried walking, coloring, puzzles, writing, watching tv, watching movies...this last 7 minutes of the Simpsons' seems to be sticking for now. Although when we tried that an hour ago, no dice...about 5 minutes and she was up again! What's trickiest about this is that mom requires 24 hour oxygen and forgets to bring it with her when she changes locations so I tend to follow her from room to room with her O2 and her H2O (she needs to drink more water these days due to medications). She's like teflon...nothing seems to stick!
What's tricky too is that it is making me the same way. I think today is the first day in a week that I've sat down to write. I can't seem to find my own sense of focus. I have begun to wander a bit, not really getting much done. I make the necessary phone calls and do the necessary chores around the house and trips to the store but no projects. And here I was hoping this would be my time for getting some of those long awaited projects DONE! Perhaps not. Pardonay Moi as she is one the move...AGAIN! I think we made it about 10 minutes that time! Oy.
It's harder to care for someone when not only can they NOT communicate their needs to you very well but they never seem to feel settled. I feel responsible for her lack of comfort. She is warm, fed, clean, safe and has comforts around her but her constant state of agitation is palpable. She's like a child you need to keep safe and occupied who doesn't have the mental capacity to focus and so she's always on the move. No stroller or crib to set her in while you shower. Speaking of...hope the hubby returns soon as I'm beginning to RIPEN here in front of the computer!
Ahh good. Hunger. That'll keep her focused for about 10 minutes!!! Yay.
On a side note, the other constant lately is her being on the precipise of major coughing fits where she can barely get air IN, turns red, gasps for air, and scares me nearly to death. She has seemed to develop a lot of mucus and is on an expectorant to deal with that, but as a result, when she is coughing a lot of that up, she damn-near drowns in it as she has forgotten how to get it out. I take for granted that when I hock up a loagie, I have the sense and the strength to spit the damn thing OUT! She does not. It requires a lot of hands on side coaching...and a bucket. Just one more of the daily "scary-waries." What's more horrifying is that for all these recent months before she moved in, she was alone when all of this daily stuff went on...no wonder we almost lost her in August.
Anyway, back to the title of this posting: All of mom's wandering makes me wander, I mean wonder, about my own sense of focus in life. While I can get the task at hand accomplished, over the last few years or so I seem to have lost my direction. Thankfully not to the extent of mom, and not BECAUSE of her...but nonetheless...where'd it go? I once prided myself and even received compliments from friends and colleagues on my ability to focus in life and "go for it." I once was a person who set out goals, high ones, and then just like, did it, got it done man. Three snaps! No more baby. I think back on that time and wonder what happened for me to get off track? I could blame falling in love, as I'm sure is the case, and then getting into our dream house and fixing it up, slowly fixing it up, and then focusing on mom's health...but is that really fair? Can I blame external influences on my inner sense of who I am and what I want to accomplish with my life? I think not. I wonder how it all happened and I want to know how to find it again, how to get that sense of inner drive and that feeling of knowing that I'm in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. I think that's partly why I started this blog. I mean, I know I'm in the right place doing the right thing for mom and there is really nothing I'd think I SHOULD be doing instead of this (other than SHOWERING...sorry, just waiting for that hubby to return). I dunno. It's just that feeling...like something is on hold. It comes and goes. When I think about it, I know a lot of people who have "gotten off track" so-to-speak. Off track from their original dream, the big one...the one that makes you feel really alive! I know what it is still...or should I say...again. I think for awhile, I really lost it. When I'd think back on past goals, they didn't do anything for me. I wasn't sure if my "big dream" was still the thing that got me all happy inside. But, when I dip my foot in that "pool" though lately, it still makes me shiver just a bit, a good shiver, enough that I think it still holds high value to me and my spirit. And that "does feel good."
I think maybe, just maybe, mom had a LOT of things in life that made her feel really good. I also think that recently, and as long as over 20 years ago, she started losing those things. They are now memories of what felt good. Maybe she is on the hunt in a way, always moving, never holding still, searching for just ONE of those things to have back in her life. The marriage, gone, the house, almost gone, the independance, gone, the career, gone, the friends...to an extent...much as I hate to say it...gone. But what I hope will keep her "warm" is that once upon a time, she did done good! She did SO MUCH good! But I'll bet it was hard to be so active and on the go and independant and then have it all come to a screeching halt. Leaves you feeling..."unsettled" anyone?
So how to help one find a sense of peace when life is full of No Landing Spot? I have yet to discover the answer to that one. Can't quite even answer it for myself right now. Just grateful when the oh so animated Simpson family can hold her attention for a spell, and even if it can't inspire her to laughter, it can take me by surprise every so often. I must write a fan letter.
As always, comments are welcome.
Forever in motion...the caregiver.
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