Mom loves road trips. Put her in a car and we can drive aimlessly for hours and she is happy as a clam. Of course there is no explaining to her our trips are running me about $60 a week. Her pat answer for anything she doesn't understand is, "Oh really?"
Today we didn't have an itinerary other than our usual trip to the coffee shop and post office.
Our son showed up at our house this morning to play golf and Mom was ready to go as soon as they left. It was 8 a.m. and she had already been up at least two hours. I had things I needed to get done, bills to pay online and a few other computer related tasks. She views computer time as game time. For the most part she sat quietly, hearing aids whistling a nameless tune. I think she only asked five or six times if we were going to go anywhere today.
I finally announced it was time to go. She didn't understand. "What do you want me to do?" I suggested she visit the bathroom before we left. She didn't understand that either. She went into the bathroom and started cleaning the toilet. Part of me wants to laugh, part of me wants to cry.
I count to 10, then 20 and sometimes 50. I don't want to be impatient with her. I want her last few years of life to be happy ones. They aren't. I know that. She misses Dad. She doesn't understand what is going on. She doesn't know who I am. She refers to me as the "Driver Lady." (At least I think she does. Maybe she's calling me the Dragon Lady). She is lost and confused. She clings to me like a toddler in a room full of strangers.
It must be so horrible to be stuck inside her head. There were days when she would struggle for the words she wanted and eventually give up. Now I don't know if she has given up before she starts or if her mind is so gone she simply doesn't know any longer. Her behavior suggests she no longer knows.
At meals if there is food on her plate she can't finish, rather than set it aside, she will try to pawn it off on someone else. No matter how many times I tell her, "No mother, I don't want your chicken. King doesn't want it either," she will keep asking. When no one will take it she will either put it back on the serving plate or try to give it to the dog.
It really makes her angry when the St. Bernard sits next to her with her head on the table.I keep telling Mom if she doesn't want the dog to beg she needs to stop feeding her table scraps. It's rather difficult to discipline a dog who keeps getting rewarded with food. Sophie (the dog) will rest her head on the table and raise an eyebrow at me. It's as if she's telling me, "Yell all you want. I am going to get some people food here in a minute."
It was Mom who taught us not to feed the dog at the table. It was Mom who taught us our table manners. It's difficult to grasp the concept that woman is no longer with us. I keep asking myself, "Who is this woman in the chair? And where is my Mother?"
Mom was the classy woman who traveled around the state giving book reviews to Ladies Church Guilds. Mom was the woman who served on the board of directors for Social Services. Mom was the one who campaigned for the only president who resigned from office. Mom was an alternate delegate for that conservative political party's state convention.
Who would have thought she would become the woman she is today?
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