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.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
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.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
This n' that
Miss Cathy has been in a pretty good mood lately; she even made me laugh yesterday. I’d come in to say good morning and to open the drapes in the living room where she was sitting by lamplight taking the curlers out of her hair (the drapery rods are almost to the ceiling so it’s a strain for her to pull the drapes back in the morning to let in the light). After her usual, “Good Morning! How did you sleep?” she said, “You wanna go back to Wegmans?”
I had to laugh, and so did she.
I don’t know what’s been going with me the last couple of days though. I’m lethargic and unmotivated. All I do is sit around, eat, read and watch TV.I leave on Saturday for my first “time off” but even that isn’t putting much pep in my step. Maybe I’m feeling out of sorts because I don’t really feel like the issue of where mom is going to go while I’m away is “really” resolved yet. We’ve talked about it twice: when I brought up my trip initially and then a couple days later she sat me down to talk about it again because she said she wanted to understand why she couldn’t stay here by herself.
In that second conversation I did suggest to her that if the idea of being over at Tony’s was so “horrible” then maybe she could ask her girlfriend, Adele if she could stay with her. It “seems” to me that she’s told me that’s where she’ll be instead of Tony’s’ but I’ve yet to talk with her to nail down the details.
I don’t know what I’m afraid of-confrontation? Running down the list (yet again) of all the reasons why it’s not any option for Miss Cathy to stay home alone? Seeing the hurt and disappointment on her face? Coming across as “bossy” or confirming her earlier accusations that Tony and I are trying to control her?
Whatever the reason it’s a conversation we need to have, it’s only Tuesday but still there are other people involved so I need to get this taken care of. Part of me has a sneaking suspicion that she’ll tell me that Adele is “picking her up” sometime after I have to leave for the airport on Saturday morning and then she’ll actually never leave and stay here by herself.
I had to laugh, and so did she.
I don’t know what’s been going with me the last couple of days though. I’m lethargic and unmotivated. All I do is sit around, eat, read and watch TV.I leave on Saturday for my first “time off” but even that isn’t putting much pep in my step. Maybe I’m feeling out of sorts because I don’t really feel like the issue of where mom is going to go while I’m away is “really” resolved yet. We’ve talked about it twice: when I brought up my trip initially and then a couple days later she sat me down to talk about it again because she said she wanted to understand why she couldn’t stay here by herself.
In that second conversation I did suggest to her that if the idea of being over at Tony’s was so “horrible” then maybe she could ask her girlfriend, Adele if she could stay with her. It “seems” to me that she’s told me that’s where she’ll be instead of Tony’s’ but I’ve yet to talk with her to nail down the details.
I don’t know what I’m afraid of-confrontation? Running down the list (yet again) of all the reasons why it’s not any option for Miss Cathy to stay home alone? Seeing the hurt and disappointment on her face? Coming across as “bossy” or confirming her earlier accusations that Tony and I are trying to control her?
Whatever the reason it’s a conversation we need to have, it’s only Tuesday but still there are other people involved so I need to get this taken care of. Part of me has a sneaking suspicion that she’ll tell me that Adele is “picking her up” sometime after I have to leave for the airport on Saturday morning and then she’ll actually never leave and stay here by herself.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Wegmans
At 7:08am on Sunday morning I was sitting in my car waiting for Miss Cathy so we could go to the grand opening of………wait for it………a grocery store!
I guess there are worse things in life but I couldn’t think of any at that moment. Color me “cranky” but I just don’t think getting up at the crack of dawn to be knee deep in fat-assed suburbanites snacking on “free” cheese and cracker samples is my idea of a good time.
Oh well, I’m the one who asked Miss Cathy on Saturday morning what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go this weekend (careful what you ask….) It was only about a 15 minute drive so I wouldn’t be so bad, I brought some coffee, my journal and a book in case I wanted to just sit outside somewhere and let mom experience the “grandness” of the “opening” by herself.
We get there and sure enough it’s quite the spectacular event, it’s as if Barman and Bailey were in town and these people had never seen a clown or an elephant before. I mean there were police directing traffic (miles before you even got to the joint) and once there I had to drop mom off at the front so that I could find a parking spot that hopefully I wouldn’t need breadcrumbs to be able to locate later.
The store was nice enough but nothing special, think “Costco” meets “Trader Joes”. The employees were bright and shiny, ready to help and put all their training to good use. The aisles were so crowded with grocery carts going this way and that, it seemed to me they could have used a few of those cops inside to direct the traffic to keep things moving.
I caught up to Miss Cathy soon after entering the store (remember, fast she’s not) but I did lose her for awhile when she went to see what all the fuss was over by the broccoli and I went to customer service for our “welcome bag”. I found her an hour later still shopping but she was ready to check out soon after. I did wonder if it got to be a little too crowded and chaotic for her.
As we were driving away mom mentioned that she knew a different way to get home from the Mapquest directions I’d used to get us there. I said that I could go home “her way” and made sure to ask if she was “sure” of her directions and that she wouldn’t get confused.
“No” she said, “I know the way, turn right a the light.” And so I did and so we drove. Since Miss Cathy likes to maintain a running commentary whenever we’re in the car she was sure to let me know when we were driving “pretty close” to where "such and such” lived or where the courthouse she had jury duty was or when we were driving past where she and pop were thinking of moving to thirty years ago, on and on it went for about 40 minutes when she said,” I think we’re suppose to be going north and not south, I’m not sure, maybe you can use your “Mapquest.”
I pulled into a service station that was closed, and used the Google maps on my IPhone to point us in the right direction. We turned around, 44 miles and 1/2 hour later we were home.
I guess there are worse things in life but I couldn’t think of any at that moment. Color me “cranky” but I just don’t think getting up at the crack of dawn to be knee deep in fat-assed suburbanites snacking on “free” cheese and cracker samples is my idea of a good time.
Oh well, I’m the one who asked Miss Cathy on Saturday morning what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go this weekend (careful what you ask….) It was only about a 15 minute drive so I wouldn’t be so bad, I brought some coffee, my journal and a book in case I wanted to just sit outside somewhere and let mom experience the “grandness” of the “opening” by herself.
We get there and sure enough it’s quite the spectacular event, it’s as if Barman and Bailey were in town and these people had never seen a clown or an elephant before. I mean there were police directing traffic (miles before you even got to the joint) and once there I had to drop mom off at the front so that I could find a parking spot that hopefully I wouldn’t need breadcrumbs to be able to locate later.
The store was nice enough but nothing special, think “Costco” meets “Trader Joes”. The employees were bright and shiny, ready to help and put all their training to good use. The aisles were so crowded with grocery carts going this way and that, it seemed to me they could have used a few of those cops inside to direct the traffic to keep things moving.
I caught up to Miss Cathy soon after entering the store (remember, fast she’s not) but I did lose her for awhile when she went to see what all the fuss was over by the broccoli and I went to customer service for our “welcome bag”. I found her an hour later still shopping but she was ready to check out soon after. I did wonder if it got to be a little too crowded and chaotic for her.
As we were driving away mom mentioned that she knew a different way to get home from the Mapquest directions I’d used to get us there. I said that I could go home “her way” and made sure to ask if she was “sure” of her directions and that she wouldn’t get confused.
“No” she said, “I know the way, turn right a the light.” And so I did and so we drove. Since Miss Cathy likes to maintain a running commentary whenever we’re in the car she was sure to let me know when we were driving “pretty close” to where "such and such” lived or where the courthouse she had jury duty was or when we were driving past where she and pop were thinking of moving to thirty years ago, on and on it went for about 40 minutes when she said,” I think we’re suppose to be going north and not south, I’m not sure, maybe you can use your “Mapquest.”
I pulled into a service station that was closed, and used the Google maps on my IPhone to point us in the right direction. We turned around, 44 miles and 1/2 hour later we were home.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Time off
For some time now I have been planning to go back to Kansas City for a week at the end of October, it would be my first “time off” since moving here to take care of Miss Cathy. I got the idea to take a week for myself every three or four months from my shrink. She suggested that I would need some time that was mine alone, to re-charge my batteries so that I would have the energy and proper mind-set to be successful as a caregiver to my mother. She said that it didn’t matter so much what I did or where I went, the important thing was to give myself some time away from care giving. My sister in law, Suemi, echoed the idea and the literature I’d been reading from the Alzheimer’s Association also seemed to stress that it was important for the caregiver to take care of themselves.
I arranged to have Miss Cathy stay with Tony and Suemi whenever I was gone and started to plan trips to KC and possibly back to NYC after the first of the year. Chad was looking forward to my being back I Kansas City and m New York friends all had a bed or couch I could sleep on when I came their way. Just knowing that I had those two trips to look forward to helped a great deal. Everything was in place and everyone seemed to be on board, except the only person I’d yet to tell my “getaway” plans to was Miss Cathy.
So, yesterday, with some trepidation I told Miss Cathy my plans to go back to Kansas City at the end of the month. I have to say, she took the news very well-initially. The first thing she said was that she was happy I was taking some time for myself and she applauded my being “independent”. She said she understood the desire to get away for a while and seemed pretty happy for me. She then started to talk about how she’d be “fine” alone in the apartment because she was so much “better” now.
Unfortunately, that’s when I had to burst her bubble and tell her that while I agreed that she was much better she still couldn’t stay in the apartment by herself.
When I said that she’d have to go back over to Tony’s house she balked.”Nawww, I’m not going back over there!”
“Wow”, I thought to myself, pretty much the reaction I was expecting-ad the reason I was dreading this conversation. I knew she wouldn’t want to go back over to Tony’s, bitched and moaned the entire time she was over there and she’s been pretty consistent in her vehemence about her stay since coming home. You’d think time would have mellowed her opinion, but, no but no.
I know she had to stay over at Tony’s for a lonnnng time but jeez, it was two months and she was with family-she wasn’t institutionalized. By her reaction and the way she talks about her time over there she’d think she was at Buckenwald-seriously. I don’t throw down the Holocaust card lightly but it’s the only thing I can think of to remind her what “horrible” really is and to put things in their proper perspective.
My God, she was lucky enough to have a son and daughter in law that loved her enough to take her in for two months and listen to her bitch and moan (daily I was told) bout how she “hated’ being there and all she wanted to do was go home.
She looked disappointed that I didn’t agree that she could stay alone but she didn’t get angry or argue (which is what I expected and was the reason I’d avoided telling her my plans earlier). She just expressed surprise given that she’d become more independent and nothing bad had happened in a long time.
I agreed with her that she as doing wonderfully and I was very proud of her but regardless of her progress, she simply cannot live alone ever again and no matter how much she forgets that fact I will have to remind her.
She said she understood what I was saying and she wouldn’t fight what my brother and I thought was best.
To say I was relieved would be an understatement, I’d been walking around for days gearing up for battle and her was the moment and there was no fight.
I suggested to her that maybe this time her experience might be different, she’s more mobile, more independent and maybe that would help her feel less confined and restricted. That seemed to register and she brightened a bit, she said that made sense and she offered that it might not be so bad knowing it would only be for a week and then she’d get to come home again.
Just as she said that there was a knock at the door. It was Adele come to pick her up for an “outing” so she was off shopping and I would get to have some “time off” in the middle of the day.
I arranged to have Miss Cathy stay with Tony and Suemi whenever I was gone and started to plan trips to KC and possibly back to NYC after the first of the year. Chad was looking forward to my being back I Kansas City and m New York friends all had a bed or couch I could sleep on when I came their way. Just knowing that I had those two trips to look forward to helped a great deal. Everything was in place and everyone seemed to be on board, except the only person I’d yet to tell my “getaway” plans to was Miss Cathy.
So, yesterday, with some trepidation I told Miss Cathy my plans to go back to Kansas City at the end of the month. I have to say, she took the news very well-initially. The first thing she said was that she was happy I was taking some time for myself and she applauded my being “independent”. She said she understood the desire to get away for a while and seemed pretty happy for me. She then started to talk about how she’d be “fine” alone in the apartment because she was so much “better” now.
Unfortunately, that’s when I had to burst her bubble and tell her that while I agreed that she was much better she still couldn’t stay in the apartment by herself.
When I said that she’d have to go back over to Tony’s house she balked.”Nawww, I’m not going back over there!”
“Wow”, I thought to myself, pretty much the reaction I was expecting-ad the reason I was dreading this conversation. I knew she wouldn’t want to go back over to Tony’s, bitched and moaned the entire time she was over there and she’s been pretty consistent in her vehemence about her stay since coming home. You’d think time would have mellowed her opinion, but, no but no.
I know she had to stay over at Tony’s for a lonnnng time but jeez, it was two months and she was with family-she wasn’t institutionalized. By her reaction and the way she talks about her time over there she’d think she was at Buckenwald-seriously. I don’t throw down the Holocaust card lightly but it’s the only thing I can think of to remind her what “horrible” really is and to put things in their proper perspective.
My God, she was lucky enough to have a son and daughter in law that loved her enough to take her in for two months and listen to her bitch and moan (daily I was told) bout how she “hated’ being there and all she wanted to do was go home.
She looked disappointed that I didn’t agree that she could stay alone but she didn’t get angry or argue (which is what I expected and was the reason I’d avoided telling her my plans earlier). She just expressed surprise given that she’d become more independent and nothing bad had happened in a long time.
I agreed with her that she as doing wonderfully and I was very proud of her but regardless of her progress, she simply cannot live alone ever again and no matter how much she forgets that fact I will have to remind her.
She said she understood what I was saying and she wouldn’t fight what my brother and I thought was best.
To say I was relieved would be an understatement, I’d been walking around for days gearing up for battle and her was the moment and there was no fight.
I suggested to her that maybe this time her experience might be different, she’s more mobile, more independent and maybe that would help her feel less confined and restricted. That seemed to register and she brightened a bit, she said that made sense and she offered that it might not be so bad knowing it would only be for a week and then she’d get to come home again.
Just as she said that there was a knock at the door. It was Adele come to pick her up for an “outing” so she was off shopping and I would get to have some “time off” in the middle of the day.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Deja frickin' vu
OMG, I just had what was almost the exact same conversation I had with Miss Cathy a few weeks ago and a few weeks before that! It was all about my “not seeming like I was happy here”…….what? Again with this? Somebody get me a rock so I can just beat myself to death and get it over with already.
Okay, so the first time we had this talk “maybe” she was sensing something that was there, the second time, not so much and today…well, today I’d just come back from a long walk and was feeling pretty content. It was the first time in about a week I’d had any exercise so I was feeling all blissed out and happy that I’d done something good for myself (and now that’s all shot to shit after talking to her).
We’d still be talking if her phone hadn’t begun to ring. Thank God for whoever was on the other end of the line. She took the call, which was my cue to escape.
Now that I’m safely on the balcony (she wouldn’t dare come out here-too windy) and had a moment to reflect on all that was said I think I’m starting to understand where all of this is coming from-or part of it at least.
First of all, I knew something was up when I came back from my walk and she was sitting quietly in her room (the sitting wasn’t a clue but the quiet sure was). I was on my way to my bathroom for a shower when I looked in and saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, slumped over into herself, looking forlorn-not a good sign.
So (against my better judgment, knowing that all my serenity would be out the window the minute I engaged her) I asked her if anything was wrong.
“Well” she sighed, “It just doesn’t seem like you’re happy here.” And so it began-again. I told her that she was mistaken, that I’m just “me” and adjusting as best I can. I stood in the doorway as she launched into her reasons for worry. I stood there for the better part of an hour, listening as she went over old territory and some new, but the bottom line is that we’ve had this conversation before.
Since this isn’t my first time at this particular rodeo I listened differently, past the minutia and details so what I heard was different from the other conversations on this particular topic. I didn’t dispute what she had to say (and I definitely didn’t argue with her) but I didn’t just accept all that she had to say as “facts” either, rather I challenged her to see that what she was talking about were her “feelings” and it didn’t necessarily have to be true, for me anyway.
It dawned on me listening to her this time that she pieces together (or so it seems to me) statements or conversations (out of context) and weaves them into a narrative where the only conclusion that she can come up with is that I must be unhappy or I’d be acting in a way that she, either a) understood or 2) would want me to “be” living with her.
I think she might be feeling guilt over my making the choice to live with her so she’s projecting her own unhappiness of the situation onto me. I also think she’s worried that I’m going to bail on her or worse-stay here and make what time she’s got left miserable.
I’m here because I want to be here (hell, I volunteered) and now that this year has unfolded the way that it has I truly believe that this is where I’m suppose to be at this time in my life. So, I probably need to reassure her more.
The take away for me is that I’m not doing a very good job of giving her a sense of security.
Okay, so the first time we had this talk “maybe” she was sensing something that was there, the second time, not so much and today…well, today I’d just come back from a long walk and was feeling pretty content. It was the first time in about a week I’d had any exercise so I was feeling all blissed out and happy that I’d done something good for myself (and now that’s all shot to shit after talking to her).
We’d still be talking if her phone hadn’t begun to ring. Thank God for whoever was on the other end of the line. She took the call, which was my cue to escape.
Now that I’m safely on the balcony (she wouldn’t dare come out here-too windy) and had a moment to reflect on all that was said I think I’m starting to understand where all of this is coming from-or part of it at least.
First of all, I knew something was up when I came back from my walk and she was sitting quietly in her room (the sitting wasn’t a clue but the quiet sure was). I was on my way to my bathroom for a shower when I looked in and saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, slumped over into herself, looking forlorn-not a good sign.
So (against my better judgment, knowing that all my serenity would be out the window the minute I engaged her) I asked her if anything was wrong.
“Well” she sighed, “It just doesn’t seem like you’re happy here.” And so it began-again. I told her that she was mistaken, that I’m just “me” and adjusting as best I can. I stood in the doorway as she launched into her reasons for worry. I stood there for the better part of an hour, listening as she went over old territory and some new, but the bottom line is that we’ve had this conversation before.
Since this isn’t my first time at this particular rodeo I listened differently, past the minutia and details so what I heard was different from the other conversations on this particular topic. I didn’t dispute what she had to say (and I definitely didn’t argue with her) but I didn’t just accept all that she had to say as “facts” either, rather I challenged her to see that what she was talking about were her “feelings” and it didn’t necessarily have to be true, for me anyway.
It dawned on me listening to her this time that she pieces together (or so it seems to me) statements or conversations (out of context) and weaves them into a narrative where the only conclusion that she can come up with is that I must be unhappy or I’d be acting in a way that she, either a) understood or 2) would want me to “be” living with her.
I think she might be feeling guilt over my making the choice to live with her so she’s projecting her own unhappiness of the situation onto me. I also think she’s worried that I’m going to bail on her or worse-stay here and make what time she’s got left miserable.
I’m here because I want to be here (hell, I volunteered) and now that this year has unfolded the way that it has I truly believe that this is where I’m suppose to be at this time in my life. So, I probably need to reassure her more.
The take away for me is that I’m not doing a very good job of giving her a sense of security.
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