Her mind is clear, her mind is foggy.
Her internal organs are strong, her exterior structure is very weak.
She remembers what goes on in the world. She forgets what day it is.
She wants to move. She is stuck staying put.
She wants to look nice. She wipes her face on a $10.00 bill.
She collects plastic straws, shopping bags, leftover snack containers "just in case".
She loves to sing hymns.
At the Dollar Store, she buys a tiara and wand for her 2 year old great-granddaughter. And combs for her neighbor.
She asks every week where she's going to live for her "permanent" address. She doesn't think she belongs where she is.
And, this morning, she took yet another fall in her bathroom, hitting her arm and
scraping up her elbow, and landing on her knee. This time she was lucky because she was able to reach the call button and have help come...last time she waited on the floor for a half hour because she couldn't reach the call button.
Things change, and the daughters become more like the care-givers: placing bibs around her neck, asking all the questions at the doctor's office, buying her clothes,
washing her clothes, combing her hair, pulling up her pants, making sure she washes her hands, putting a blanket around her because she's too cold, reassuring her when she getsconfused and/or upset, taking her for walks in her chair with wheels. Just like we did with our own until not so very long ago.
For now we take it a day at a time, a week at a time, a month at a time. Mom's future is unclear and we will help her get through
it - and to it - as best as we can.
Her mind is clear, her mind is foggy.
Her internal organs are strong, her exterior structure is very weak.
She remembers what goes on in the world. She forgets what day it is.
She wants to move. She is stuck staying put.
She wants to look nice. She wipes her face on a $10.00 bill.
She collects plastic straws, shopping bags, leftover snack containers "just in case".
She loves to sing hymns.
At the Dollar Store, she buys a tiara and wand for her 2 year old great-granddaughter. And combs for her neighbor.
She asks every week where she's going to live for her "permanent" address. She doesn't think she belongs where she is.
And, this morning, she took yet another fall in her bathroom, hitting her arm and
scraping up her elbow, and landing on her knee. This time she was lucky because she was able to reach the call button and have help come...last time she waited on the floor for a half hour because she couldn't reach the call button.
Things change, and the daughters become more like the care-givers: placing bibs around her neck, asking all the questions at the doctor's office, buying her clothes,
washing her clothes, combing her hair, pulling up her pants, making sure she washes her hands, putting a blanket around her because she's too cold, reassuring her when she getsconfused and/or upset, taking her for walks in her chair with wheels. Just like we did with our own until not so very long ago.
For now we take it a day at a time, a week at a time, a month at a time. Mom's future is unclear and we will help her get through
it - and to it - as best as we can.
2 comments:
What a sweet tribute to your mom, Deb! I'm sure you are a most excellent caregiver and loving daughter. Thanks for sharing it with us...
Mom,
This is so sweet and dear. You have such a tenderness here in this blog for your mom. I am so glad that she moved to Illinois to repair many years of strained crankiness that existed in her persona. Thank you for sharing this today!
Post a Comment