Miss Cathy didn’t want to go over to my brother’s for turkey day this year. It’s a shame because with only a few exceptions it’s been the only holiday that our little family has all been together since Pop died twelve years ago, our only “family tradition”. I know that her aversion to being at Tony’s is directly related to the fact that she’s had to stay over there so many times this year already. Her reaction is kinda like Pavlov’s dog-she hears that she’s gotta go to Tony’s and she instantly thinks about loss of freedom and control, my brother’s house (unfortunately) represents all that is “sickness and dying” and the vulnerability that entails.
Knowing that, I didn’t make a big deal out of it or try to make a case for going to my brothers’. We just stayed here and had a perfectly lovely day-no turkey but a nice meal. We talked a lot during the day and spent time together in the living room, me fussing over the plants and she doing something with the food she was prepping for dinner.
On Friday she went with Adele to see a friend in the hospital. When she came home she was visibly upset, her friend was told he has six months to live. She took the news pretty hard; I didn’t realize that she was as close to him as she was. Listening to her talk about her friend and others that were sick or dying made me think that a lot has changed in one generation.
It used to be that death and dying were for our parents and “their” generation, definitely the old-not the young. “We” were spared having to think about death so it was a just something else that separated us from our parents, widening the gap. Unfortunately, I (and others of my generation) came of age and maturity with the dawn of the AIDS epidemic in the 1980’s and although it took a little time for it to affect me personally I too started to lose people in my life and I became very familiar with death and dying.
So, although my twenties were as they should have been-a time of wonder, discovery and possibility there was also a layer of fear, hospitals smells, funerals and shock at learning that yet another friend, acquaintance, lover, club kid or business associate was sick or dying. Remember, this was a time before the cocktails and once or twice a day pills. No one was thinking that HIV was a “manageable”, chronic illness. No, in the 80’s a diagnosis meant only one thing-you were going to die, it was just a matter of when.
My generation quickly became adept at speaking a new language, and performing at a level that shouldn’t be required for thirty or forty years but here we were at an age when we were buying our first homes and/or entered into our first long term relationships and we were picking out coffins for friends and loved ones as well.
So, as my mother talked to me about her friend and expressed her concerns and explained sickness and death to me as if it were a foreign land I’d yet to visit I just nodded, a silent passenger, fully aware and well traveled.
I saw no point in “one up-ping” her or saying to her “been there, done that”, I’d told her my experiencing before but she’s either forgotten or just focused on her own mortality as it’s reflected back to her through those around her.
On Saturday morning I heard her familiar, “Heyyyyy!” as I came into the kitchen for my coffee. I peeked into the living room to acknowledge her (remember this is the new and improved “engaging” Ty in the morning, no longer the Ty that would ignore the greeting and scurry back to his lair).
She said, “Can you come here for a minute?”
I walked closer and asked what she wanted. “I want you to sit down, here, next to me.”
“Okay”, I thought as I planted myself opposite her on the sofa, “I can already tell this is gonna be a doozy, glad I’ve got some coffee at least.”
“I just wanted to tell you that I love you and give you a hug,” she said. “I just wanted you and your brother, although I’ll tell him another time, how much I appreciate all that you have done and continue to do for me.” “ It just means the world to me to know that all the hard work and the sacrifices that I made for you guys when you were growing up were worth it because of the men that you turned out to be.” "You just don't know how much that means to me.I’m getting a little emotional now but I just wanted to say, “I love you” and give you a hug-like I told Mark and Brian when I met them, “Hug-sies!”
I hugged her close and held her tight. I told her that I love her, too. We continued to talk and she said that she didn’t know why she was getting so emotional. I suggested that she was probably still emotional after just seeing her friend and learning his fate. It was only natural I told her to think about life and to be grateful for what you have when someone else has so little or so little time left.
She agreed and we sat there for a moment, reflective, in a state of “Thanksgiving”.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Company III
It had to be almost midnight on Monday after my evening out with friends when I heard Miss Cathy come into the living room where I was just about to watch some TV. I thought she was in bed sleeping after we “discussed” the food that she’d prepared earlier in the evening for Mark and Brian (actually she talked obsessively about it and I tried to talk her “in” off the ledge).
Before she was even in the room I could hear her ask, “Do you think we have containers that we can give them for the food?”
“It’s okay mom”, I said as soothingly as I could, trying to keep any annoyance out of my voice,” you don’t have to worry about it now, we’ll get it all sorted out in the morning.”
Standing in the hallway leading to the living room wearing nothing but her nightgown she asked, “What time are they coming in the morning?” I was annoyed and filled with compassion at the same time because I knew this was a “real” concern for her but I couldn’t NOT acknowledge how trivial it all was-to myself anyway.
”Who cares what time they’re coming over for Christ sake!” I wanted to scream,” It’s just food and it’s not even food they fucking asked for so go to bed and stop bothering me with this shit!” I thought all of this to myself but would never say any of it out loud and felt instantly guilty for thinking it.
“I don’t know mom, they didn’t say but we’ll work it all out.” I tried to be kind and not patronizing but I can’t be sure how it came out. I could see that she was “all wound up” and she’d probably be up all night thinking about it and I felt helpless to do anything other than try to reassure her and insist that she got to bed to get some sleep.
I don’t know…….I do know that a part of this (the obsessive ness, the constant worry over what would seem to most to be trivial matters) is because of her condition but it’s also part of who she is, too. She’s always been a nervous, anxious person. Maybe the Alzheimer’s is just “heightening” those traits in her.
First thing in the morning I made a point to let Miss Cathy know that I’d contacted Brian and I gave her an idea of what time they would be stopping by to visit. I also told her what containers I’d be using (not the Tupperware though-heaven help me if I gave away some of Miss Cathy’s “good” Tupperware). I could see that she was in good spirits and eager to see my friends again. She then told me that Adele was stopping by as well so we were going to have a house full.
Later that morning Miss Cathy was outside talking to Adele when Mark and Brian pulled up so they had a “reunion” of sorts out in front of the building. I took advantage of a moment alone with Brian after he and Mark came inside to ask him what he thought about mom’s behavior.
Brian is not only one of my best friends; he’s a Psychologist, too. I try to not ask him for clinical advice but sometimes the lines blur because I’m asking my friend, who is smart and insightful for his observations AND he just happens to be talking about things that are in his field of expertise.
I told him my concerns about her “obsessing” over things like time, tasks and dates. He said something interesting to me, he said, quite simply, ”She’s losing the concept of time.” “ Which means that she’s not able to mentally calibrate what “happens” next.”
He used the example of what was going on, he said that in her mind she’s baking the chicken, then she’s focused on the fact that (they) are coming to get the chicken, so she has to get the chicken ready for them but she can’t organize herself or her thoughts around the issue.
“Time,” Brian said, “is intrinsically linked to memory.”
Before she was even in the room I could hear her ask, “Do you think we have containers that we can give them for the food?”
“It’s okay mom”, I said as soothingly as I could, trying to keep any annoyance out of my voice,” you don’t have to worry about it now, we’ll get it all sorted out in the morning.”
Standing in the hallway leading to the living room wearing nothing but her nightgown she asked, “What time are they coming in the morning?” I was annoyed and filled with compassion at the same time because I knew this was a “real” concern for her but I couldn’t NOT acknowledge how trivial it all was-to myself anyway.
”Who cares what time they’re coming over for Christ sake!” I wanted to scream,” It’s just food and it’s not even food they fucking asked for so go to bed and stop bothering me with this shit!” I thought all of this to myself but would never say any of it out loud and felt instantly guilty for thinking it.
“I don’t know mom, they didn’t say but we’ll work it all out.” I tried to be kind and not patronizing but I can’t be sure how it came out. I could see that she was “all wound up” and she’d probably be up all night thinking about it and I felt helpless to do anything other than try to reassure her and insist that she got to bed to get some sleep.
I don’t know…….I do know that a part of this (the obsessive ness, the constant worry over what would seem to most to be trivial matters) is because of her condition but it’s also part of who she is, too. She’s always been a nervous, anxious person. Maybe the Alzheimer’s is just “heightening” those traits in her.
First thing in the morning I made a point to let Miss Cathy know that I’d contacted Brian and I gave her an idea of what time they would be stopping by to visit. I also told her what containers I’d be using (not the Tupperware though-heaven help me if I gave away some of Miss Cathy’s “good” Tupperware). I could see that she was in good spirits and eager to see my friends again. She then told me that Adele was stopping by as well so we were going to have a house full.
Later that morning Miss Cathy was outside talking to Adele when Mark and Brian pulled up so they had a “reunion” of sorts out in front of the building. I took advantage of a moment alone with Brian after he and Mark came inside to ask him what he thought about mom’s behavior.
Brian is not only one of my best friends; he’s a Psychologist, too. I try to not ask him for clinical advice but sometimes the lines blur because I’m asking my friend, who is smart and insightful for his observations AND he just happens to be talking about things that are in his field of expertise.
I told him my concerns about her “obsessing” over things like time, tasks and dates. He said something interesting to me, he said, quite simply, ”She’s losing the concept of time.” “ Which means that she’s not able to mentally calibrate what “happens” next.”
He used the example of what was going on, he said that in her mind she’s baking the chicken, then she’s focused on the fact that (they) are coming to get the chicken, so she has to get the chicken ready for them but she can’t organize herself or her thoughts around the issue.
“Time,” Brian said, “is intrinsically linked to memory.”
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Company II
It was a nice surprise to be able to spend as much time with my friend Brian as I did during his recent visit. Better still that he was able to come by the apartment three days in a row to spend some time with Miss Cathy and see my life here.
After Mark and Brian’s brief visit on Sunday I was looking forward to having a more relaxing visit with him. On Monday Brian came over to hang out a little before we went into DC. I happened to see him outside from my bedroom window so I went out to greet him. One of the first things he said to me was, “Your mom reminds me so much of my mother.” I knew that he has a close but tumultuous relationship with his mom so I was surprised and intrigued by his statement.
He said that he could see that she was a strong, fiercely independent, opinionated woman but he could also see that she was struggling to adjust to her new life and diagnosis.
It was great that Brian spent some one on one time talking to Miss Cathy before we took off to the city. We took the Metro into DC where we spent the day at the National Portrait Gallery then dinner at Cuba Libre with his partner Mark, his cousin Joy and my friend Bill.
Since I was gone for so much of the day I should have checked in with mom earlier but it wasn’t till dinner that I thought to call (I have to admit that I was having so much fun and just forgot). I was definitely thinking about her though (and feeling guilty) because I saved part of my meal to share with her (a doggy bag consolation prize for NOT thinking to call her earlier).
Interestingly, while I was debating whether or not to call because it was getting late (she usually is not up at 9:30pm) my cell lit up and there was Miss Cathy’s face on my IPhone, calling me.
She said that she’d made smothered chicken and sweet potato pie and wanted to know what time “we’d all” be coming back so that she could give Brian and Mark a plate of food. I was kinda taken aback because 1) no one asked her to cook for them and b) we’d just finished eating dinner and there’d been no discussion other than of me being dropped off after we left the city.
I explained to her that we’d already eaten and that it would be late by the time we got back to the suburbs but I’d do my best. After I extended the invite, Brian said they would come by on Tuesday morning to say goodbye to Miss Cathy and to get the food.
So, I was/was not surprised when we were in my parking lot and I looked up and saw that her bedroom light was still on when they dropped off around 11:00pm. I’d had such a good day/night that I really wasn’t in the mood for whatever was waiting for me on the other side of the door but I walked in, kicked off my shoes and I went into her room to see what was in store. It was now about four hours past her bedtime and it was unusual for her to “wait up” on the rare occasions that I’d gone out for the evening so I was curious to see she was up to.
And there she was, waiting up, thinking that “the boys” were going to come in and visit. She was visibly disappointed when I told her they headed back to Joys’ to get some sleep but she did perk up a bit when she found out they would be back in the morning. I think it also helped that I brought her some of my dinner to sample. She sat right up and got herself ready for me to bring her a plate of the exotic Cuban food. She acted as if eating spicy food near midnight were nothing out of the ordinary.
The “black” rice with seafood, yucca fries and plantains were all new to her but (surprisingly) she ate everything on the plate. I think she enjoyed the fact that I brought the food home for her more than the food itself. She said that they were “interesting” flavors and that it would probably take a while for her palette to get used to it all.
Then she chatted on and on about the food she’d prepared earlier and wondered if they’d like it. I worried a little that she’d gotten herself all “wound” up cooking and waiting for a “visit” that she’d made up in her head. I could already hear in her voice that she was going to get “obsessive”, talking of nothing else until Mark and Brian were here eating her food. She started peppering me with question after question; "Did they like chicken?" "Did they like pie?" "What were we going to put the food in?" "Did we have containers we could spare?"....and on and on. All I wanted was to come home and bask in the afterglow of some “me” time but instead I felt the “glow” turn into a “slow burn”. Eventually she calmed down, I reassured her that we'd work it all out in the morning, I turned out her light and she went to sleep-or so I thought.
After Mark and Brian’s brief visit on Sunday I was looking forward to having a more relaxing visit with him. On Monday Brian came over to hang out a little before we went into DC. I happened to see him outside from my bedroom window so I went out to greet him. One of the first things he said to me was, “Your mom reminds me so much of my mother.” I knew that he has a close but tumultuous relationship with his mom so I was surprised and intrigued by his statement.
He said that he could see that she was a strong, fiercely independent, opinionated woman but he could also see that she was struggling to adjust to her new life and diagnosis.
It was great that Brian spent some one on one time talking to Miss Cathy before we took off to the city. We took the Metro into DC where we spent the day at the National Portrait Gallery then dinner at Cuba Libre with his partner Mark, his cousin Joy and my friend Bill.
Since I was gone for so much of the day I should have checked in with mom earlier but it wasn’t till dinner that I thought to call (I have to admit that I was having so much fun and just forgot). I was definitely thinking about her though (and feeling guilty) because I saved part of my meal to share with her (a doggy bag consolation prize for NOT thinking to call her earlier).
Interestingly, while I was debating whether or not to call because it was getting late (she usually is not up at 9:30pm) my cell lit up and there was Miss Cathy’s face on my IPhone, calling me.
She said that she’d made smothered chicken and sweet potato pie and wanted to know what time “we’d all” be coming back so that she could give Brian and Mark a plate of food. I was kinda taken aback because 1) no one asked her to cook for them and b) we’d just finished eating dinner and there’d been no discussion other than of me being dropped off after we left the city.
I explained to her that we’d already eaten and that it would be late by the time we got back to the suburbs but I’d do my best. After I extended the invite, Brian said they would come by on Tuesday morning to say goodbye to Miss Cathy and to get the food.
So, I was/was not surprised when we were in my parking lot and I looked up and saw that her bedroom light was still on when they dropped off around 11:00pm. I’d had such a good day/night that I really wasn’t in the mood for whatever was waiting for me on the other side of the door but I walked in, kicked off my shoes and I went into her room to see what was in store. It was now about four hours past her bedtime and it was unusual for her to “wait up” on the rare occasions that I’d gone out for the evening so I was curious to see she was up to.
And there she was, waiting up, thinking that “the boys” were going to come in and visit. She was visibly disappointed when I told her they headed back to Joys’ to get some sleep but she did perk up a bit when she found out they would be back in the morning. I think it also helped that I brought her some of my dinner to sample. She sat right up and got herself ready for me to bring her a plate of the exotic Cuban food. She acted as if eating spicy food near midnight were nothing out of the ordinary.
The “black” rice with seafood, yucca fries and plantains were all new to her but (surprisingly) she ate everything on the plate. I think she enjoyed the fact that I brought the food home for her more than the food itself. She said that they were “interesting” flavors and that it would probably take a while for her palette to get used to it all.
Then she chatted on and on about the food she’d prepared earlier and wondered if they’d like it. I worried a little that she’d gotten herself all “wound” up cooking and waiting for a “visit” that she’d made up in her head. I could already hear in her voice that she was going to get “obsessive”, talking of nothing else until Mark and Brian were here eating her food. She started peppering me with question after question; "Did they like chicken?" "Did they like pie?" "What were we going to put the food in?" "Did we have containers we could spare?"....and on and on. All I wanted was to come home and bask in the afterglow of some “me” time but instead I felt the “glow” turn into a “slow burn”. Eventually she calmed down, I reassured her that we'd work it all out in the morning, I turned out her light and she went to sleep-or so I thought.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Company
My friends Brian and Mark are in town from Chicago and I got a chance to spend some time with them yesterday, quite unexpectedly. They’re staying with Brian’s cousin, Joy and it turns out she lives less than ten miles from here.
While Brian and I were on the phone talking about how close we were to one another Joy graciously invited me to join them for Sunday brunch. I had texted Chad during my morning coffee that I had no plans for the day and was just going to “see where the day takes me” so the invitation was kismet. If anything, the only “day” I had “planned” would be watching TV, eating too much and obsessing about my relationship so I jumped at the chance to get out of the apartment. It was all so spur of the moment and unlike me (I usually respond best to planned spontaneity).
Brunch was lovely and spending time with old friends and meeting some new people was just what I needed. During a lull after the meal I found out that my friends had some time before they had to drive into DC so I invited them over to the apartment to meet Miss Cathy.
I’ve known Brian for more than twenty years and he’d never met my mother after hearing story after story about her so I was eager to finally introduce her to him. Besides, it might be the only chance Mark would have to meet her because of his busy schedule so I was happy they agreed to drop by.
I did think to call ahead to ask mom if she was “up” for company, she said, “Sure, but I have rollers in my hair, is that alright?”
I told her that she’d be fine, that they wouldn’t care as long as she was comfortable.
Brian had insisted on taking Miss Cathy flowers and he thought it would be a hoot to be able to tell her that the flowers came from “Wegmans” given that he’d read the blog entry of our experience at the opening of the grocery store.
Once we were at the store I mentioned that mom liked apple pie just as much as she liked flowers (thinking Brian could save a little money) and he said, “Oh good, then we’ll get her flowers AND an apple pie!” I couldn’t say too much about his being extravagant because after all the gifts were not for me so it wasn’t for me to protest. What I did say was how much I appreciated what he was doing and how much I knew Miss Catty would, too.
When we arrived at the apartment mom was all smiles and the first thing out of her mouth even before introductions was, “Hugs! We hug around here.”
She was as tickled as a schoolgirl receiving a prom corsage over the flowers and pie. And sure enough, she laughed when Brian told her he’d bought everything at Wegmans. She busied herself with putting the flowers in water while I showed the guys around.
We all sat in the living room to chat after she’d put the flowers in a vase on the coffee table and I’d cut the guys a slice of apple pie to sample. Miss Cathy was very much in her element with a new audience. She is definitely more of a social creature than I am-that gene must have skipped a generation.
She regaled them with stories about her knee replacement and recovery and I did my best to just listen and not editorialize with my eyebrows.
I was surprised when Brian commented that the apartment is larger than he was led to believe after reading the blog. “Gee”, I thought to myself, “I hope I’m not embellishing or exaggerating my experience here.”
I “hope” I’m documenting things as they’re happening. But let’s face it, we can only relate what we know as we see it, so…
It does make me wonder if what I’m writing about her is “larger” or “smaller”. I’ll be curious to hear what Brian thinks now that he’s met her.
While Brian and I were on the phone talking about how close we were to one another Joy graciously invited me to join them for Sunday brunch. I had texted Chad during my morning coffee that I had no plans for the day and was just going to “see where the day takes me” so the invitation was kismet. If anything, the only “day” I had “planned” would be watching TV, eating too much and obsessing about my relationship so I jumped at the chance to get out of the apartment. It was all so spur of the moment and unlike me (I usually respond best to planned spontaneity).
Brunch was lovely and spending time with old friends and meeting some new people was just what I needed. During a lull after the meal I found out that my friends had some time before they had to drive into DC so I invited them over to the apartment to meet Miss Cathy.
I’ve known Brian for more than twenty years and he’d never met my mother after hearing story after story about her so I was eager to finally introduce her to him. Besides, it might be the only chance Mark would have to meet her because of his busy schedule so I was happy they agreed to drop by.
I did think to call ahead to ask mom if she was “up” for company, she said, “Sure, but I have rollers in my hair, is that alright?”
I told her that she’d be fine, that they wouldn’t care as long as she was comfortable.
Brian had insisted on taking Miss Cathy flowers and he thought it would be a hoot to be able to tell her that the flowers came from “Wegmans” given that he’d read the blog entry of our experience at the opening of the grocery store.
Once we were at the store I mentioned that mom liked apple pie just as much as she liked flowers (thinking Brian could save a little money) and he said, “Oh good, then we’ll get her flowers AND an apple pie!” I couldn’t say too much about his being extravagant because after all the gifts were not for me so it wasn’t for me to protest. What I did say was how much I appreciated what he was doing and how much I knew Miss Catty would, too.
When we arrived at the apartment mom was all smiles and the first thing out of her mouth even before introductions was, “Hugs! We hug around here.”
She was as tickled as a schoolgirl receiving a prom corsage over the flowers and pie. And sure enough, she laughed when Brian told her he’d bought everything at Wegmans. She busied herself with putting the flowers in water while I showed the guys around.
We all sat in the living room to chat after she’d put the flowers in a vase on the coffee table and I’d cut the guys a slice of apple pie to sample. Miss Cathy was very much in her element with a new audience. She is definitely more of a social creature than I am-that gene must have skipped a generation.
She regaled them with stories about her knee replacement and recovery and I did my best to just listen and not editorialize with my eyebrows.
I was surprised when Brian commented that the apartment is larger than he was led to believe after reading the blog. “Gee”, I thought to myself, “I hope I’m not embellishing or exaggerating my experience here.”
I “hope” I’m documenting things as they’re happening. But let’s face it, we can only relate what we know as we see it, so…
It does make me wonder if what I’m writing about her is “larger” or “smaller”. I’ll be curious to hear what Brian thinks now that he’s met her.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Doing time
I’ve had a rough couple of days in my personal life and it led me to wonder how much of my “personal stuff” is bleeding over into how I care for and relate to Miss Cathy. I mean, duh, I know one effects the other but it wasn’t till now that I stopped to really think about it.
So, before addressing some of my own issues yesterday I lay in my single bed right after waking and thought about how Miss Cathy and I are really getting along. The conclusion I came to is that I’m just “doing my time”, and if that’s the case then like any “prisoner” that means I’m just counting down the days till I’m paroled or released (and lets face it-I’m only four months into a twenty-four month sentence and that’s at a MINIMUM). Wow! That’s a sad way of looking at things and it’s one helluva eye-opener for me.
I always felt that if you can’t “name your truth” then how are you going to work through it? And my “truth” is that “I’m not happy here.” I knew that I wasn’t adjusting to being here as well as I’d hoped but after coming back from my trip I had to acknowledge that it was more than that. Having said that I don’t regret my decision to come, it was and is the right thing to do and where I need to be. It’s just that (now) it’s up to me to choose how I want to spend the next couple of years (or heaven forbid more time than that depending on how her disease progresses).
I lay in bed looking at the improvements I’d made to my little room; buying a funky, mid-century bookshelf/room divider, hanging some of my favorite pieces of art on the walls, rearranging the furniture to create better “zones” and editing out things that I don’t need to “live” here.
I thought about mom and how little it takes to really make her happy. Don’t get me wrong, she can be a nightmare but it seems I’ve only been focusing on that part of our dynamic and forgetting that we used to be really close and had a great rapport. I spend so much time avoiding her lately, so worried about hassles that I forget that there can be happiness, too.
I realized that I don’t want to just “do time” here, there needs to be some quality in my care and the time I spend with her needs to reflect that.
I decided that “I” should make an effort to be more cheerful and engaging in the morning and “I” should listen to what she has to say and not just let her words turn into white noise until there’s a silence, which means I can utter a generic response, and make my exit. I also decided to ask her each day what she might like to do or if she’d like to go somewhere.
With that plan in mind I got up, greeted her with a big (sincere) “Good morning” and actually engaged her in some light conversation while my coffee brewed. I asked her if she wanted to do anything and she said “yes” that she wanted to go grocery shopping for some sale items (our favorite past time) and we made a plan to go out together at noon.
I had time to work on some of my personal issues and I don’t know if one fed the other but I found that taking positive steps in one area seemed to help me sort out things in other areas of my life.
Miss Cathy and I went out for an hour or so and it was time well spent. I was patient in the stores (we went to two different grocery stores to price check and compare different foods) and I actually listened to her when she talked and participated in the conversation-no matter that we’d had this same conversation before.
Back at the apartment, she cooked and chatted as I tended the plants (I seem to be turning into Martha friggin Stewart with those things). She told me later that she had a “really great day” and thanked me for taking her out. I told her that I had fun, too feeling a slight bit of guilt that I’d not been this person earlier BUT I’m “here” now and not just doing time.
So, before addressing some of my own issues yesterday I lay in my single bed right after waking and thought about how Miss Cathy and I are really getting along. The conclusion I came to is that I’m just “doing my time”, and if that’s the case then like any “prisoner” that means I’m just counting down the days till I’m paroled or released (and lets face it-I’m only four months into a twenty-four month sentence and that’s at a MINIMUM). Wow! That’s a sad way of looking at things and it’s one helluva eye-opener for me.
I always felt that if you can’t “name your truth” then how are you going to work through it? And my “truth” is that “I’m not happy here.” I knew that I wasn’t adjusting to being here as well as I’d hoped but after coming back from my trip I had to acknowledge that it was more than that. Having said that I don’t regret my decision to come, it was and is the right thing to do and where I need to be. It’s just that (now) it’s up to me to choose how I want to spend the next couple of years (or heaven forbid more time than that depending on how her disease progresses).
I lay in bed looking at the improvements I’d made to my little room; buying a funky, mid-century bookshelf/room divider, hanging some of my favorite pieces of art on the walls, rearranging the furniture to create better “zones” and editing out things that I don’t need to “live” here.
I thought about mom and how little it takes to really make her happy. Don’t get me wrong, she can be a nightmare but it seems I’ve only been focusing on that part of our dynamic and forgetting that we used to be really close and had a great rapport. I spend so much time avoiding her lately, so worried about hassles that I forget that there can be happiness, too.
I realized that I don’t want to just “do time” here, there needs to be some quality in my care and the time I spend with her needs to reflect that.
I decided that “I” should make an effort to be more cheerful and engaging in the morning and “I” should listen to what she has to say and not just let her words turn into white noise until there’s a silence, which means I can utter a generic response, and make my exit. I also decided to ask her each day what she might like to do or if she’d like to go somewhere.
With that plan in mind I got up, greeted her with a big (sincere) “Good morning” and actually engaged her in some light conversation while my coffee brewed. I asked her if she wanted to do anything and she said “yes” that she wanted to go grocery shopping for some sale items (our favorite past time) and we made a plan to go out together at noon.
I had time to work on some of my personal issues and I don’t know if one fed the other but I found that taking positive steps in one area seemed to help me sort out things in other areas of my life.
Miss Cathy and I went out for an hour or so and it was time well spent. I was patient in the stores (we went to two different grocery stores to price check and compare different foods) and I actually listened to her when she talked and participated in the conversation-no matter that we’d had this same conversation before.
Back at the apartment, she cooked and chatted as I tended the plants (I seem to be turning into Martha friggin Stewart with those things). She told me later that she had a “really great day” and thanked me for taking her out. I told her that I had fun, too feeling a slight bit of guilt that I’d not been this person earlier BUT I’m “here” now and not just doing time.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
This n' that
What can I say? When Miss Cathy is having a good week-so am I. I took her over to Adele’s on Monday for a visit. So she got to hang out with her girlfriend for a while and I got a plant-stand (One of the perks of being Miss Cathy’s “entourage” I guess). The few times I’ve taken her over to hang out I usually stay in my car in the driveway, reading or writing, sometimes talking to Chad. I know I could be inside but like a “good driver” I stay with the car while Madame “visits” and I am “at the ready” when she comes out. Besides, I like having the time alone to do whatever.
Afterwards we made an impromptu grocery-shopping trip. I noticed that Miss Cathy is walking much better, she’s still toddling-but faster. She had a moment in the store when she got angry because she couldn’t find something but other than that she seemed to deal with the situation much better. I’ve noticed that she has flashes of anger when she’s overwhelmed sometimes.
The only other thing I noticed this week was that when I told her I’d take her over to Adele’s house for a visit she on the phone in a flash to let her friend know we were coming over. When she didn’t get Adele on the phone right away she got a little obsessive calling and calling, sometimes leaving a message, more often than not hanging up only to call again in a few minutes (Poor Adele, I felt sorry for her if she was home and was trying to nap).
After calling for several hours I saw her dressed and ready to go. When I asked if she’d finally talked to Adele she said “No” and when I asked why she was dressed she said she wanted to be ready, “just in case”.
Again, it’s that ‘single-mindedness” of “gottta get this done” or “gotta go, gotta go” that is new since the first of the year and is a little disturbing. She gets very anxious, sometimes snarky and is rarely relaxed before going anywhere.
All that aside-the week has been good. I’ve been hanging out with her more, even watched one of her favorite shows “Are you smarter than a fifth grader” (I wasn’t) with her on Tuesday night. She gets a big kick out of trying to answer the questions and its one of the few times that I don’t mind her incessant taking during a TV show.
Since I brought the plants inside for the winter she’s been a big help. While I’ve been watering and pruning the plants she’s been busy dusting off the tabletops and collecting the blooms and leaves that have died and fallen off.
We’ve got a nice little rhythm going right now-fingers crossed that it lasts.
Afterwards we made an impromptu grocery-shopping trip. I noticed that Miss Cathy is walking much better, she’s still toddling-but faster. She had a moment in the store when she got angry because she couldn’t find something but other than that she seemed to deal with the situation much better. I’ve noticed that she has flashes of anger when she’s overwhelmed sometimes.
The only other thing I noticed this week was that when I told her I’d take her over to Adele’s house for a visit she on the phone in a flash to let her friend know we were coming over. When she didn’t get Adele on the phone right away she got a little obsessive calling and calling, sometimes leaving a message, more often than not hanging up only to call again in a few minutes (Poor Adele, I felt sorry for her if she was home and was trying to nap).
After calling for several hours I saw her dressed and ready to go. When I asked if she’d finally talked to Adele she said “No” and when I asked why she was dressed she said she wanted to be ready, “just in case”.
Again, it’s that ‘single-mindedness” of “gottta get this done” or “gotta go, gotta go” that is new since the first of the year and is a little disturbing. She gets very anxious, sometimes snarky and is rarely relaxed before going anywhere.
All that aside-the week has been good. I’ve been hanging out with her more, even watched one of her favorite shows “Are you smarter than a fifth grader” (I wasn’t) with her on Tuesday night. She gets a big kick out of trying to answer the questions and its one of the few times that I don’t mind her incessant taking during a TV show.
Since I brought the plants inside for the winter she’s been a big help. While I’ve been watering and pruning the plants she’s been busy dusting off the tabletops and collecting the blooms and leaves that have died and fallen off.
We’ve got a nice little rhythm going right now-fingers crossed that it lasts.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
This n' that
Today has been a pretty good day; in fact the past couple of days haven’t been bad. Now that it’s been a few weeks since Miss Cathy is back home she’s settled back in and happy. I gotta say, she’s more “herself” now than ever, earlier today I overheard her on the telephone talking to her insurance company about a bill and she was on top of her game. She had her information ready, questions prepared and she even took note of the agent’s name “for her records”.
When she came into my room later to fill me in on what she was up to I told her that I was proud of her and how she was “taking care of business”. She thanked me and said that she was appreciative of all the Tony and I are doing for her but “while she can” she wanted to do as much for herself as possible.
Last night she was up late (I’m talking past 10:00pm) watching the Redskins on Monday Night Football. And judging from the sounds I heard in the living room coming from her bedroom, “Hit him!” “Aww man, you know you should caught that ball!” “Run, run!” I’d say she’s enjoying her football.
She had me take some pictures of the plants that Chad had bought and decorated the balcony with last June so that he could see how well they were doing. I’m surprised that I’ve only managed to kill two of the ten so far. They were a pain in my ass at first, I thought, “Some gift if he gets to leave when they’re all lush and green and I inherit the burden of trying to keep them alive.” I may have resented them at first but now I’m kinda obsessed with them, they’re kind like a botanical witness for what I’m going through so-if they live so do I.
But I digress……back to Miss Cathy. She came up with a tuna salad that I had to take a pass on the other day. She can come up with some strange concoctions sometimes, she’s always been one to add a ”dash” of this or “dollop” of that to a dish and she’s never really followed a recipe or been able to make the same thing twice in exactly the same way.
Her tuna salad had the usual, tuna and mayo but she added sugar to the dill relish that I like but she doesn’t and to this she added sour cream. She the proceeded to eat the tuna on toasted white bread, lathered with mustard. While I enjoy most of what she cooks (and sometimes too much-you should see my waistline since living here-oye ve!)
I sat her down at my computer this morning after I uploaded the pictures of the plants and showed her how email works. She’d asked me if I was going to mail Chad the pics so I thought it was as a good a time as any to introduce her to email. Of course she’s heard about it but I’m pretty sure it’s the first time she ‘s seen the internet in action.
She was so into it that after she dictated the email to Chad she had me send the same pictures to Tony and Suemi. Who knows, today email-tomorrow facebook.
When she came into my room later to fill me in on what she was up to I told her that I was proud of her and how she was “taking care of business”. She thanked me and said that she was appreciative of all the Tony and I are doing for her but “while she can” she wanted to do as much for herself as possible.
Last night she was up late (I’m talking past 10:00pm) watching the Redskins on Monday Night Football. And judging from the sounds I heard in the living room coming from her bedroom, “Hit him!” “Aww man, you know you should caught that ball!” “Run, run!” I’d say she’s enjoying her football.
She had me take some pictures of the plants that Chad had bought and decorated the balcony with last June so that he could see how well they were doing. I’m surprised that I’ve only managed to kill two of the ten so far. They were a pain in my ass at first, I thought, “Some gift if he gets to leave when they’re all lush and green and I inherit the burden of trying to keep them alive.” I may have resented them at first but now I’m kinda obsessed with them, they’re kind like a botanical witness for what I’m going through so-if they live so do I.
But I digress……back to Miss Cathy. She came up with a tuna salad that I had to take a pass on the other day. She can come up with some strange concoctions sometimes, she’s always been one to add a ”dash” of this or “dollop” of that to a dish and she’s never really followed a recipe or been able to make the same thing twice in exactly the same way.
Her tuna salad had the usual, tuna and mayo but she added sugar to the dill relish that I like but she doesn’t and to this she added sour cream. She the proceeded to eat the tuna on toasted white bread, lathered with mustard. While I enjoy most of what she cooks (and sometimes too much-you should see my waistline since living here-oye ve!)
I sat her down at my computer this morning after I uploaded the pictures of the plants and showed her how email works. She’d asked me if I was going to mail Chad the pics so I thought it was as a good a time as any to introduce her to email. Of course she’s heard about it but I’m pretty sure it’s the first time she ‘s seen the internet in action.
She was so into it that after she dictated the email to Chad she had me send the same pictures to Tony and Suemi. Who knows, today email-tomorrow facebook.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Home again II
“Oh, there’s a new rug. I wonder what else has been changed since I’ve been gone.” I heard Miss Cathy say upon entering the apartment. She’d just walked in from being at Tony’s house while I was on holiday. I was sitting on the balcony writing when I heard them come in but they didn’t see me.
She made a few other comments that I only half heard as I came in from outside and they didn’t sound much like praise-more like “what the hell else has he done to my apartment?”…….and so it began, Miss Cathy was home.
I gave her a hug and welcomed her back-what else was I gonna do, call her out for dissing my decorating? I almost panicked thinking that Tony had escaped since I didn’t see him but to my relief he’d just gone out to retrieve the rest of her things. I forgot that she has to travel like a gypsy now; in addition to her suitcase(s) she needs her shower and toilet seats, and a bag with all of her meds. We didn’t pack “Roger” her rolling walker with a seat because we’re trying to encourage her to walk on her own as much as possible.
While she was getting settled in I seized the opportunity to talk to Tony. He didn’t want to talk in the apartment for fear she’d hear us so we went out to his car to Kibbutz.
“So,” I asked once we were settled in his mini-van, “how was she?”
“She wasn’t too bad man,” Tony said,” it wasn’t till yesterday when she knew that we were coming back over here that she started to act up a little.”
“We didn’t really have any problems like the last time. She even came downstairs a couple of times to watch movies with me and Suemi. Of course she was running her yap during the movie so I had to put it on pause and tell her to “please be quiet so we can enjoy the movie”- but you know mom.” (Yeah, I know her very well.)
I was happy to hear that their time together wasn’t a complete disaster but I had to ask about what happened before they got here.
“Well, she was a little agitated the night before we came over. I think it’s something about “knowing” that she’s got to go somewhere that gets her wounds up. That and the fact that she was all excited about going home.”
Tony told me that he worked from home on Friday so he could drive her back here after rush hour and not have to be stressed after driving home himself in all that traffic. He said that he “thought” he could finish up his work and then relax for a few hours until it was time to go. Unfortunately the minute he sat down in the family room Miss Cathy started her campaign to get on the road-traffic or no.
Apparently they had a few words, ending in Tony NOT relaxing but packing the car and sitting in traffic for a an hour and a half. Needless to say, they rode in silence the entire trip. When Tony told me that I said, “Well, sounds familiar. I don’t think we said two words to each other when I was bringing her to your place-a least she’s consistent.”
We talked about how challenging she can be and compared notes on her behavior.
“You know how negative she can be, always finding fault with everything and talking boo-coo shit about everybody.” I said,” So okay, here’s a question for you, what did she say about me? I know she said something.”
“No, not much,” He responded, “at least not in the beginning. She did start in on you when I told her that I wanted to give you an extra day so you’d have some time alone so you could have some privacy. That’s when she blew up and said “privacy!” what about my “privacy?”" What about my freedom!?"
When Tony reminded her that I gave up a lot to come live with her she said that she appreciated it but what about her privacy and her things? Apparently she was pissed off about the redecorating I’d done when she was in rehab.
“I come home,” she said.” And my things are just GONE, he rearranged everything and just threw away a perfectly good microwave.”
I loved it! I was reeling with laughter listening to Tony mimic Miss Cathy’s voice as he listed off her list of grievances against me. There was no way I could take anything she said personally (not anymore anyway) because she talks shit about everybody so I knew I was no exception and I knew that in her righteous indignation she’d forgotten that we’d discussed everything (several times) while she was in rehab. We talked about my putting her stuff in storage, cleaning up the apartment and making it more livable for the two of us. And I didn’t throw her microwave away and it wasn’t in perfect condition, I donated it to Goodwill (because there was chip in the door so it was hard to close it).
Noticing the time on my watch I only got to talk to Tony a few minutes more-we didn’t’ want to spend too much time alone lest Miss Cathy become suspicious and think we were comparing notes and talking shit about her-which we were. I did get to tell him that the minute I went away I realized the benefit of taking some time to myself and that I was already planning my next holiday with Chad to go to San Diego in late January or early February.
I left his car feeling renewed, kinda like how I imagine war buddies feel after getting together and talking about doing battle together, no matter how many well meaning people want to talk to you about your experience, nothing beats talking about it with somebody who’s been in the trenches with you-sometimes you don’t even have to speak to be understood.
She made a few other comments that I only half heard as I came in from outside and they didn’t sound much like praise-more like “what the hell else has he done to my apartment?”…….and so it began, Miss Cathy was home.
I gave her a hug and welcomed her back-what else was I gonna do, call her out for dissing my decorating? I almost panicked thinking that Tony had escaped since I didn’t see him but to my relief he’d just gone out to retrieve the rest of her things. I forgot that she has to travel like a gypsy now; in addition to her suitcase(s) she needs her shower and toilet seats, and a bag with all of her meds. We didn’t pack “Roger” her rolling walker with a seat because we’re trying to encourage her to walk on her own as much as possible.
While she was getting settled in I seized the opportunity to talk to Tony. He didn’t want to talk in the apartment for fear she’d hear us so we went out to his car to Kibbutz.
“So,” I asked once we were settled in his mini-van, “how was she?”
“She wasn’t too bad man,” Tony said,” it wasn’t till yesterday when she knew that we were coming back over here that she started to act up a little.”
“We didn’t really have any problems like the last time. She even came downstairs a couple of times to watch movies with me and Suemi. Of course she was running her yap during the movie so I had to put it on pause and tell her to “please be quiet so we can enjoy the movie”- but you know mom.” (Yeah, I know her very well.)
I was happy to hear that their time together wasn’t a complete disaster but I had to ask about what happened before they got here.
“Well, she was a little agitated the night before we came over. I think it’s something about “knowing” that she’s got to go somewhere that gets her wounds up. That and the fact that she was all excited about going home.”
Tony told me that he worked from home on Friday so he could drive her back here after rush hour and not have to be stressed after driving home himself in all that traffic. He said that he “thought” he could finish up his work and then relax for a few hours until it was time to go. Unfortunately the minute he sat down in the family room Miss Cathy started her campaign to get on the road-traffic or no.
Apparently they had a few words, ending in Tony NOT relaxing but packing the car and sitting in traffic for a an hour and a half. Needless to say, they rode in silence the entire trip. When Tony told me that I said, “Well, sounds familiar. I don’t think we said two words to each other when I was bringing her to your place-a least she’s consistent.”
We talked about how challenging she can be and compared notes on her behavior.
“You know how negative she can be, always finding fault with everything and talking boo-coo shit about everybody.” I said,” So okay, here’s a question for you, what did she say about me? I know she said something.”
“No, not much,” He responded, “at least not in the beginning. She did start in on you when I told her that I wanted to give you an extra day so you’d have some time alone so you could have some privacy. That’s when she blew up and said “privacy!” what about my “privacy?”" What about my freedom!?"
When Tony reminded her that I gave up a lot to come live with her she said that she appreciated it but what about her privacy and her things? Apparently she was pissed off about the redecorating I’d done when she was in rehab.
“I come home,” she said.” And my things are just GONE, he rearranged everything and just threw away a perfectly good microwave.”
I loved it! I was reeling with laughter listening to Tony mimic Miss Cathy’s voice as he listed off her list of grievances against me. There was no way I could take anything she said personally (not anymore anyway) because she talks shit about everybody so I knew I was no exception and I knew that in her righteous indignation she’d forgotten that we’d discussed everything (several times) while she was in rehab. We talked about my putting her stuff in storage, cleaning up the apartment and making it more livable for the two of us. And I didn’t throw her microwave away and it wasn’t in perfect condition, I donated it to Goodwill (because there was chip in the door so it was hard to close it).
Noticing the time on my watch I only got to talk to Tony a few minutes more-we didn’t’ want to spend too much time alone lest Miss Cathy become suspicious and think we were comparing notes and talking shit about her-which we were. I did get to tell him that the minute I went away I realized the benefit of taking some time to myself and that I was already planning my next holiday with Chad to go to San Diego in late January or early February.
I left his car feeling renewed, kinda like how I imagine war buddies feel after getting together and talking about doing battle together, no matter how many well meaning people want to talk to you about your experience, nothing beats talking about it with somebody who’s been in the trenches with you-sometimes you don’t even have to speak to be understood.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Home again
I’ve been back from my “holiday” for almost a week now and I think I’m starting to feel like I’m back into my routines here. Funny, I wasn’t gone that long (not quite a week) but I definitely feel………something different, what could it be? rested? regretful? renewed? I don’t know….
I do know that I had a great time with Chad in Kansas City. I thought about Miss Cathy but I didn’t call. I was 1,200 miles away and knew that if something happened Tony would call me.
I felt guilty about was how easy it was to slip back into my old life and not think much about my new one. Oh, and I felt very guilty about NOT wanting to get on the plane Thursday morning to fly back east when my holiday was over.
But, home I was bound so off I went.
Upon landing one of the first things I did was turn my Iphone back on and lo and behold there was a text from Tony. I should have known that something was “up” because Tony does not text-Tony barely communicates. “Surprised” would not describe my reaction when I read that there was a change of plans and he was bringing Miss Cathy back home a day early-I’m sure I looked like a cow that had someone standing on her udder.
Turns out Tony and Suemi had to go UVA to see Nile in some show so instead of taking grandma with them (I’m sure they offered and she told them she’d rather go home) Tony was driving her back.
I felt like a five year old that was just told there’s no Santa on Christmas morning. Gone were my two days of “free to be”-“me and me”. I was looking forward to having the time to unwind ALONE, unpack, start some art, you know just “chill”. I know, it sounds selfish-I just had five days in KC with Chad but this was going to be some time all by myself to ease back into things, but no, but no.
I’m embarrassed now (and should have been then) by my reaction. You’d have thought somebody just died (well, my time alone was just murdered) by the way I drifted through most of the rest of the day until I made myself snap out of it.
So, l came home, bought myself a consolation pizza -may as well eat junk food and made the best of the time that I did have to unpack and unwind.
I took all day to think up how I was going to respond to the text, part of me wanted to unload-tell Tony how “unfair” it was that my time-off was compromised but even I could see how what douche I would be if I started ragging on him for being a good father and wanting to see his daughter in some college program-bad Ty!
Anyway, I finally banged out a reply late that night telling Tony that I was a) disappointed but 2) I understood and actually thanked him for letting me know sooner rather than later-or "heaven for fend"- just show up on Friday unannounced.
I did actually pull my head out of my own ass long enough to feel bad for my brother. He’s not the most “feeling” guy you’d ever meet but he did put a lot of empathy and feeling into his text. It was kinda sweet how he wanted me to know that he wanted desperately to give me the time aone that I wanted. After I got over sulking and pouting I really “got” that and I love him for it.
We even had a laugh about it when he dropped Miss Cathy off.
I do know that I had a great time with Chad in Kansas City. I thought about Miss Cathy but I didn’t call. I was 1,200 miles away and knew that if something happened Tony would call me.
I felt guilty about was how easy it was to slip back into my old life and not think much about my new one. Oh, and I felt very guilty about NOT wanting to get on the plane Thursday morning to fly back east when my holiday was over.
But, home I was bound so off I went.
Upon landing one of the first things I did was turn my Iphone back on and lo and behold there was a text from Tony. I should have known that something was “up” because Tony does not text-Tony barely communicates. “Surprised” would not describe my reaction when I read that there was a change of plans and he was bringing Miss Cathy back home a day early-I’m sure I looked like a cow that had someone standing on her udder.
Turns out Tony and Suemi had to go UVA to see Nile in some show so instead of taking grandma with them (I’m sure they offered and she told them she’d rather go home) Tony was driving her back.
I felt like a five year old that was just told there’s no Santa on Christmas morning. Gone were my two days of “free to be”-“me and me”. I was looking forward to having the time to unwind ALONE, unpack, start some art, you know just “chill”. I know, it sounds selfish-I just had five days in KC with Chad but this was going to be some time all by myself to ease back into things, but no, but no.
I’m embarrassed now (and should have been then) by my reaction. You’d have thought somebody just died (well, my time alone was just murdered) by the way I drifted through most of the rest of the day until I made myself snap out of it.
So, l came home, bought myself a consolation pizza -may as well eat junk food and made the best of the time that I did have to unpack and unwind.
I took all day to think up how I was going to respond to the text, part of me wanted to unload-tell Tony how “unfair” it was that my time-off was compromised but even I could see how what douche I would be if I started ragging on him for being a good father and wanting to see his daughter in some college program-bad Ty!
Anyway, I finally banged out a reply late that night telling Tony that I was a) disappointed but 2) I understood and actually thanked him for letting me know sooner rather than later-or "heaven for fend"- just show up on Friday unannounced.
I did actually pull my head out of my own ass long enough to feel bad for my brother. He’s not the most “feeling” guy you’d ever meet but he did put a lot of empathy and feeling into his text. It was kinda sweet how he wanted me to know that he wanted desperately to give me the time aone that I wanted. After I got over sulking and pouting I really “got” that and I love him for it.
We even had a laugh about it when he dropped Miss Cathy off.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Free to be
On Friday, October 29th I drove Miss Cathy over to Tony’s to stay for about six days- oh my, what a “fun” ride that was. We didn’t leave the apartment till noon so she had the entire morning to pack and get ready (and practice giving me the cold shoulder). Miss Cathy’s MO for trips is to be packed the night (or days) before and she’s usually sitting on her hands by the door at the crack of dawn on travel-day but not this time. Her two yellow, American Tourister luggage pieces (an “overnight” and the ever popular “weekender” bags that she’s had since the 70’s) were still right where I left it them on the floor in her bedroom.
Since I wasn’t leaving for the airport till Saturday morning I decided to wait to pack until after I was back in the apartment alone and free to be. Around eleven Adele popped over to say good-bye (or to wish the prisoner well as she’s dragged of in shackles to the “big house”-Tony’s house).
Remember, this is the woman who said after staying at Tony's for two months while I went back to Kansas City to close up shop so I could come live with her full-tme,"I am never leaving my home again." "The only way you'll see me leaving here is in a pine box." AND my favorite, "There's no way in hell I'm ever going back over there (Tony's house) again!"........and away we went.
I don’t think mom and I said more than a dozen words to each other on the car ride over (and it takes an hour to drive across I-95 from Greenbelt, MD to Stafford, VA where Tony&CO live.) Well, it wasn’t the first (or last) time we were together in silence. I just adjusted my hoodie against the chill and tried to ignore her backseat driving body movements.
She thinks that if she mimics the movements of “braking” and “looking out for “the man” or what she considers “idiot” drivers then she’s somehow shielded from accidents, comforted or feels like she has some “say” in the act of driving and it's outcome-of course she doesn’t (Miss Cathy logic).
Hey, at least all the wiggling around is in silence-it took me years to get her to shut the hell up and to not tell me how she’d drive if she were behind the wheel, “But you’re not Blanche.”
Miss Cathy voluntarily gave her car to her grandson Zachary earlier this year, so it was her idea to stop driving (and I really admire her for it). But after over fifty years of driving she’s used to being in the driver's seat and being in control-old control freaks are hard to break.
We made it over to Tony’s a little after 1pm-quietly and safely. I knew that Suemi was due back home from work before 2pm so I was debating whether or not to stay and wait for her when she pulled up out front just as I was unloading the last of mom’s stuff into the house-whew! Saved by my sister-in-law.
I hadn’t seen her in a few months (not since she and Tony stopped by one night to bring me one of the boxes I’d shipped to their house and we sat in their min-van and I talked their ears off because I was soooo lonely.) We don't really talk on the phone or communicate much lately, I have been leaving them alone to adjust to being "empty-nesters" and to "heal" from Miss Cathy staying with them for two months over the summer (and bitching about how much she hated it their and wanted to leave-pretty much every frigging day).
Anyway, we were standing in the foyer having a chat and I was actually thinking of hanging out for awhile but somehow Miss Cathy inserted herself into the conversation and said, “I’d like to take the three of you out of your home and see how you like it.”
“Well,” I said to no one in particular, “the conversation is sounding very familiar so I’m outta here.” I gave mom a quick hug and I held Suemi tighter than usual (in solidarity) and then I was in my car and back on the interstate without looking back.
Actually, I did look back, I waved to Suemi, standing in the doorway, grateful for my freedom and already wondering when the guilt would set in and if I’d be able to relax and enjoy just being me.
Since I wasn’t leaving for the airport till Saturday morning I decided to wait to pack until after I was back in the apartment alone and free to be. Around eleven Adele popped over to say good-bye (or to wish the prisoner well as she’s dragged of in shackles to the “big house”-Tony’s house).
Remember, this is the woman who said after staying at Tony's for two months while I went back to Kansas City to close up shop so I could come live with her full-tme,"I am never leaving my home again." "The only way you'll see me leaving here is in a pine box." AND my favorite, "There's no way in hell I'm ever going back over there (Tony's house) again!"........and away we went.
I don’t think mom and I said more than a dozen words to each other on the car ride over (and it takes an hour to drive across I-95 from Greenbelt, MD to Stafford, VA where Tony&CO live.) Well, it wasn’t the first (or last) time we were together in silence. I just adjusted my hoodie against the chill and tried to ignore her backseat driving body movements.
She thinks that if she mimics the movements of “braking” and “looking out for “the man” or what she considers “idiot” drivers then she’s somehow shielded from accidents, comforted or feels like she has some “say” in the act of driving and it's outcome-of course she doesn’t (Miss Cathy logic).
Hey, at least all the wiggling around is in silence-it took me years to get her to shut the hell up and to not tell me how she’d drive if she were behind the wheel, “But you’re not Blanche.”
Miss Cathy voluntarily gave her car to her grandson Zachary earlier this year, so it was her idea to stop driving (and I really admire her for it). But after over fifty years of driving she’s used to being in the driver's seat and being in control-old control freaks are hard to break.
We made it over to Tony’s a little after 1pm-quietly and safely. I knew that Suemi was due back home from work before 2pm so I was debating whether or not to stay and wait for her when she pulled up out front just as I was unloading the last of mom’s stuff into the house-whew! Saved by my sister-in-law.
I hadn’t seen her in a few months (not since she and Tony stopped by one night to bring me one of the boxes I’d shipped to their house and we sat in their min-van and I talked their ears off because I was soooo lonely.) We don't really talk on the phone or communicate much lately, I have been leaving them alone to adjust to being "empty-nesters" and to "heal" from Miss Cathy staying with them for two months over the summer (and bitching about how much she hated it their and wanted to leave-pretty much every frigging day).
Anyway, we were standing in the foyer having a chat and I was actually thinking of hanging out for awhile but somehow Miss Cathy inserted herself into the conversation and said, “I’d like to take the three of you out of your home and see how you like it.”
“Well,” I said to no one in particular, “the conversation is sounding very familiar so I’m outta here.” I gave mom a quick hug and I held Suemi tighter than usual (in solidarity) and then I was in my car and back on the interstate without looking back.
Actually, I did look back, I waved to Suemi, standing in the doorway, grateful for my freedom and already wondering when the guilt would set in and if I’d be able to relax and enjoy just being me.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Home alone II
One afternoon we sat in the kitchen for about an hour talking about the fact that she can no longer live alone among other things. Each time we talked I tried to think up a new way to explain things to her, some new example or an analogy that would finally make her understand. I reminded her that she was always talking about “God this” and “God that” so maybe now was a time to lean on Him for strength if she needed help. I thought was a good way to go, a solid line of reasoning that would help-it did not.
Another approach was: “Remember how you always talk about how grandma was when she got older and needed help? Remember how she inconvenienced all her children by being selfish and not doing what her kids suggested?”
“Well, that’s what you’re doing”, I told her, “You’re being just like grandma and making things difficult for us by seeing only what you want and not what’s best for everybody involved.”
While she agreed that grandma was a pain in the ass she didn’t see that that situation had anything to do with her (Miss Cathy logic).
Frustrated, I tried another tact, “Maybe you can think of it this way”, I tried once more to explain,” You wanted a security system because you’d been robbed so we got one installed, and that totally makes sense but there’s no guarantee that someone will try to rob you again but you feel safer knowing that you have the alarm as a deterrent “just in case”.
“Well”, I continued, “think of going to Tony’s like the security system-you’ve had two major falls while you were here alone and you started what could have been a fire in the kitchen that I had to deal with because you got flustered. If you’re over at Tony’s and something happened there would be somebody there to help-‘”just in case.”
Sometimes I thought I was getting through to her but it obviously didn’t last for long. More often than not we’d end the conversation with her saying that she was “glad we talked” , that talking was important because it “cleared things up and you could get questions answered”. She also said she would try to “go along” with what we’d decided, knowing that it was done “out of love for her” and although she didn’t agree she’d acquiesce.
So, while she might accept what I was saying for a day or two she’d always seem to come full circle and ask, “ If I’m doing better I just don’t see why I can’t stay in my own home-alone.” “I just don’t want to be a burden on anybody.”
“You’re not a burden mom, “ I said,” Tony, Suemi and I have all accepted that this is a part of our lives now so we’re ready to do what needs to be done. The only time you feel like a burden to me is when you fight us after we all talk and come up with a plan that works for all of us.”
“Remember when we first started talking about all this at the beginning of the year, we agreed that in order for this to work it would require sacrifice from everybody. Well, Tony’s doing his part, Suemi is doing hers and I damn sure am doing mine-all we’re asking you to sacrifice is to Not be home alone for less than one week and you don’t seem to want to do that. At some point you’re going to have to sit with yourself in a quiet moment and accept the fact that you can never live alone again, for the rest of your life.”
Round and round we went, each time she seemed more deflated in her defeat. I, on the other hand hardly felt the victor-I hadn’t “won” anything, more and more I felt like the warden to her prisoner.
“You just don’t know what it’s like to be in somebody else’s house, not around your own things,” she said,” can’t use the stove because it’s gas as ‘I’m used to electric, can’t use the remote control on the TV because its too complicated, can’t open this door because it broken and you have to turn the lock a certain way, gotta climb up and down the stairs to go to the bathroom AND to sleep at night.”
On and on she went listing what to her felt like I don’t know what-slights? Injustices? Inconveniences? Just listening t o her talk about “other people” when it’s her son’s home she’s describing made me all the more sad and mad. She was obviously unhappy and in her mind she really feels as though she’s being punished or denied something but I was also mad at her for being so goddamned selfish and ungrateful. Nobody was dragging her off to the camps during WWII.
“Well,” she said during what was to be our last conversation on the matter just a couple days before I drove her over to Treblinka (I mean Tony’s) “I wouldn’t be a bother anymore if I killed myself.”
“Wow!” was the only thing I could say. I simultaneously thought and said, “I cannot believe you just said that. I’m can only laugh and think that you’re making a joke because if you’re serious I don’t know how to respond.”
“Are you serious about wanting to kill yourself? Are you that unhappy? I don’t know you were that depressed; the whole point of my being here was so that you could enjoy the time you have left before you get really ill. If you’re not happy then what’s the point?”
“Well, I could,” she said.
“Yeah, well you could and if you did don’t look for me to try to pump out your stomach or do anything heroic. If that’s a choice you make I’m not going to try to stop you.”
“Good, you can’t do anything anyway if it’s something I wanted to do.” She said.
“Wow!”
Sometimes, I just don’t know what to think or what to do with her. I wanted to ask her if she wanted to talk to someone, a shrink maybe but I didn’t. Part of me didn’t want to “play” into this suicide business if it was ploy to manipulate me into getting her way (and I’m pretty sure it was because an hour later she was having a snack in the living room as if nothing had been said) and if it was sincere then I need to find a way to approach this in the right way.
Another approach was: “Remember how you always talk about how grandma was when she got older and needed help? Remember how she inconvenienced all her children by being selfish and not doing what her kids suggested?”
“Well, that’s what you’re doing”, I told her, “You’re being just like grandma and making things difficult for us by seeing only what you want and not what’s best for everybody involved.”
While she agreed that grandma was a pain in the ass she didn’t see that that situation had anything to do with her (Miss Cathy logic).
Frustrated, I tried another tact, “Maybe you can think of it this way”, I tried once more to explain,” You wanted a security system because you’d been robbed so we got one installed, and that totally makes sense but there’s no guarantee that someone will try to rob you again but you feel safer knowing that you have the alarm as a deterrent “just in case”.
“Well”, I continued, “think of going to Tony’s like the security system-you’ve had two major falls while you were here alone and you started what could have been a fire in the kitchen that I had to deal with because you got flustered. If you’re over at Tony’s and something happened there would be somebody there to help-‘”just in case.”
Sometimes I thought I was getting through to her but it obviously didn’t last for long. More often than not we’d end the conversation with her saying that she was “glad we talked” , that talking was important because it “cleared things up and you could get questions answered”. She also said she would try to “go along” with what we’d decided, knowing that it was done “out of love for her” and although she didn’t agree she’d acquiesce.
So, while she might accept what I was saying for a day or two she’d always seem to come full circle and ask, “ If I’m doing better I just don’t see why I can’t stay in my own home-alone.” “I just don’t want to be a burden on anybody.”
“You’re not a burden mom, “ I said,” Tony, Suemi and I have all accepted that this is a part of our lives now so we’re ready to do what needs to be done. The only time you feel like a burden to me is when you fight us after we all talk and come up with a plan that works for all of us.”
“Remember when we first started talking about all this at the beginning of the year, we agreed that in order for this to work it would require sacrifice from everybody. Well, Tony’s doing his part, Suemi is doing hers and I damn sure am doing mine-all we’re asking you to sacrifice is to Not be home alone for less than one week and you don’t seem to want to do that. At some point you’re going to have to sit with yourself in a quiet moment and accept the fact that you can never live alone again, for the rest of your life.”
Round and round we went, each time she seemed more deflated in her defeat. I, on the other hand hardly felt the victor-I hadn’t “won” anything, more and more I felt like the warden to her prisoner.
“You just don’t know what it’s like to be in somebody else’s house, not around your own things,” she said,” can’t use the stove because it’s gas as ‘I’m used to electric, can’t use the remote control on the TV because its too complicated, can’t open this door because it broken and you have to turn the lock a certain way, gotta climb up and down the stairs to go to the bathroom AND to sleep at night.”
On and on she went listing what to her felt like I don’t know what-slights? Injustices? Inconveniences? Just listening t o her talk about “other people” when it’s her son’s home she’s describing made me all the more sad and mad. She was obviously unhappy and in her mind she really feels as though she’s being punished or denied something but I was also mad at her for being so goddamned selfish and ungrateful. Nobody was dragging her off to the camps during WWII.
“Well,” she said during what was to be our last conversation on the matter just a couple days before I drove her over to Treblinka (I mean Tony’s) “I wouldn’t be a bother anymore if I killed myself.”
“Wow!” was the only thing I could say. I simultaneously thought and said, “I cannot believe you just said that. I’m can only laugh and think that you’re making a joke because if you’re serious I don’t know how to respond.”
“Are you serious about wanting to kill yourself? Are you that unhappy? I don’t know you were that depressed; the whole point of my being here was so that you could enjoy the time you have left before you get really ill. If you’re not happy then what’s the point?”
“Well, I could,” she said.
“Yeah, well you could and if you did don’t look for me to try to pump out your stomach or do anything heroic. If that’s a choice you make I’m not going to try to stop you.”
“Good, you can’t do anything anyway if it’s something I wanted to do.” She said.
“Wow!”
Sometimes, I just don’t know what to think or what to do with her. I wanted to ask her if she wanted to talk to someone, a shrink maybe but I didn’t. Part of me didn’t want to “play” into this suicide business if it was ploy to manipulate me into getting her way (and I’m pretty sure it was because an hour later she was having a snack in the living room as if nothing had been said) and if it was sincere then I need to find a way to approach this in the right way.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Home alone
I’ve been putting off writing for several days because I just didn’t want to think about what’s felt like some major steps backward for Miss Cathy and have to process how we got here. Of course it all had to do with her having to go over to Tony’s house.
I thought the issue had resolved itself soon after I told her about my impending trip; we had a long conversation after my announcement so I “thought” that was the end of it but who was I kidding-it was just the beginning.
Funny, she’s all for my going on a holiday but she just refuses to accept that she can no longer stay by herself any longer.
We talked about it so much (she’d bring it up every few days) that I was just exhausted (and I wonder why I don’t have the energy to go to the gym). But, I (kinda) knew what I was signing up for so I did my best to “talk” to her each time, not to get mad or impatient and to “try” to help her understand (with varying degrees of success).
On Wednesday morning she found out that Adele had family drama of her own so she wasn’t able to have mom stay with her. The news prompted Miss Cathy to launch a new campaign to convince me that she was “better” and “well enough” to stay home alone. She told me that she didn’t understand that if I agreed that she was doing so much better why she had to go over to my brother’s house.
It wasn’t the first time she’d said that but I heard it differently this time so I asked her, “Do you think of going over to Tony’s house as punishment?” I already knew the answer before she spoke so it didn’t surprise me when she answered in the affirmative.
I told her that I was sorry she felt that way, that the reality couldn’t be further from what she thought.
While I did agree that she was more independent, that I was proud of her for taking on the day-to-day responsibility of taking her meds and needing my help less. Still, I couldn’t get her to understand that one thing had nothing to do with the other. I told her that we (Tony, Suemi and I) were all happy with the progress that she’d made but the reality was that she was at a time in her life when she could no longer live alone and she’d just have to accept that fact-the sooner the better. (I know that sounds cold-blooded but its just the truth and I’ve found that reaching for analogies hasn’t helped and sugar coating information doesn’t help her –or me).
My reasoning started her to drag out her old argument that “we” (the doctor’s and her kids) said that she couldn’t live alone but she didn’t agree. And so it began again the same back and forth about her independence and even whether or not her dementia diagnosis is correct.
I thought the issue had resolved itself soon after I told her about my impending trip; we had a long conversation after my announcement so I “thought” that was the end of it but who was I kidding-it was just the beginning.
Funny, she’s all for my going on a holiday but she just refuses to accept that she can no longer stay by herself any longer.
We talked about it so much (she’d bring it up every few days) that I was just exhausted (and I wonder why I don’t have the energy to go to the gym). But, I (kinda) knew what I was signing up for so I did my best to “talk” to her each time, not to get mad or impatient and to “try” to help her understand (with varying degrees of success).
On Wednesday morning she found out that Adele had family drama of her own so she wasn’t able to have mom stay with her. The news prompted Miss Cathy to launch a new campaign to convince me that she was “better” and “well enough” to stay home alone. She told me that she didn’t understand that if I agreed that she was doing so much better why she had to go over to my brother’s house.
It wasn’t the first time she’d said that but I heard it differently this time so I asked her, “Do you think of going over to Tony’s house as punishment?” I already knew the answer before she spoke so it didn’t surprise me when she answered in the affirmative.
I told her that I was sorry she felt that way, that the reality couldn’t be further from what she thought.
While I did agree that she was more independent, that I was proud of her for taking on the day-to-day responsibility of taking her meds and needing my help less. Still, I couldn’t get her to understand that one thing had nothing to do with the other. I told her that we (Tony, Suemi and I) were all happy with the progress that she’d made but the reality was that she was at a time in her life when she could no longer live alone and she’d just have to accept that fact-the sooner the better. (I know that sounds cold-blooded but its just the truth and I’ve found that reaching for analogies hasn’t helped and sugar coating information doesn’t help her –or me).
My reasoning started her to drag out her old argument that “we” (the doctor’s and her kids) said that she couldn’t live alone but she didn’t agree. And so it began again the same back and forth about her independence and even whether or not her dementia diagnosis is correct.
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