Despite her initial reluctance, mom has now moved twice in one year. Her first choice of apartments turned out to be too large. She is now making herself comfortable in a studio size unit.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Another Move
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Inertia
I suppose it was inevitable. After all that moving and bustling and worrying and packing and organizing and traveling, things on my end slowed to a crawl yesterday.
Actually, things slowed to a nap -- followed by some more resting. I think after that I stared at some TV for a while. Yeah, I didn't do much and it felt pretty great.
Today I'm still tired so I'm thinking another nap is not far off. I've only been up a few hours as it is but, hey, I'm gonna have to expend some energy toward a breakfast situation soon and that will probably put me down for the count.
It's hard to describe how draining it is to support a parent in this process. Unless you've done it, I'm not sure words can really convey the complexity of the challenge. I found myself walking many, many ever-shifting boundaries to handle the fundamental task at hand. I'd say the most difficult was the fluid nature of when to behave like a daughter versus when to behave like a parent to my own mom. It was weird.
There were situations where we both laughed hysterically, moments where I wanted to handcuff her to the chair, times when I cried alone or in front of her and a few incidents where I felt like I was being manipulative to get past the fact that mom is a full-fledged adult to who gets to make her own decisions.
I remember almost shouting at her back in Kentucky that she had to deal with her belongings. "Mom! There is no 'later.' The truck is coming. You have to decide NOW." I felt like crap about it. I haven't had a full-blown fight with my mom since I was about 27 years old. I decided I was too old to be yelling like a hormonal teenager, so I cut it out. We've certainly had arguments and snapped at each other since then but I haven't had a complete knock-down-drag-out with her in 20 years. So raising my voice to her (unless we're all laughing) doesn't feel so good. I told her that I was doing it as the lesser of two evils: I was not about to watch that truck pull up and see her confused and upset about what was and wasn't going to California because other people were making decisions that she hadn't faced.
I know it was the right thing to do. I know all of it was basically the right thing to do. My sister and I have handled everything as best we can and mom has expressed profound gratitude and conceded that most if not all of our methods were necessary. We're all grateful she's in California now and in one piece.
We just all need lots of naps. Too bad we still have to assemble that damn Ikea table!
Actually, things slowed to a nap -- followed by some more resting. I think after that I stared at some TV for a while. Yeah, I didn't do much and it felt pretty great.
Today I'm still tired so I'm thinking another nap is not far off. I've only been up a few hours as it is but, hey, I'm gonna have to expend some energy toward a breakfast situation soon and that will probably put me down for the count.
It's hard to describe how draining it is to support a parent in this process. Unless you've done it, I'm not sure words can really convey the complexity of the challenge. I found myself walking many, many ever-shifting boundaries to handle the fundamental task at hand. I'd say the most difficult was the fluid nature of when to behave like a daughter versus when to behave like a parent to my own mom. It was weird.
There were situations where we both laughed hysterically, moments where I wanted to handcuff her to the chair, times when I cried alone or in front of her and a few incidents where I felt like I was being manipulative to get past the fact that mom is a full-fledged adult to who gets to make her own decisions.
I remember almost shouting at her back in Kentucky that she had to deal with her belongings. "Mom! There is no 'later.' The truck is coming. You have to decide NOW." I felt like crap about it. I haven't had a full-blown fight with my mom since I was about 27 years old. I decided I was too old to be yelling like a hormonal teenager, so I cut it out. We've certainly had arguments and snapped at each other since then but I haven't had a complete knock-down-drag-out with her in 20 years. So raising my voice to her (unless we're all laughing) doesn't feel so good. I told her that I was doing it as the lesser of two evils: I was not about to watch that truck pull up and see her confused and upset about what was and wasn't going to California because other people were making decisions that she hadn't faced.
I know it was the right thing to do. I know all of it was basically the right thing to do. My sister and I have handled everything as best we can and mom has expressed profound gratitude and conceded that most if not all of our methods were necessary. We're all grateful she's in California now and in one piece.
We just all need lots of naps. Too bad we still have to assemble that damn Ikea table!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
A Tall Tale
Mom telling us about some of the folks she's meeting at her new home while we're waiting to meet the new neurologist.
Monday, April 4, 2011
The Construction Crew
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| Sylvie working on a chair. |
 |
| She did it! |
Time Out!
I'm so angry right now I could spit nails.
I can NOT count the number of times in the past three days that I have watched children charge toward my mother as if she, with walker, could gracefully dodge their trajectory.
What the hell is wrong with people? And, by the way, I'm not talking about the kids here. I'm talking about the adults. I happen to think kids are supposed to be kids -- and adults are supposed to rein them in when they are on the verge of mowing down the elderly.
That, however, might be too much to ask since in EVERY case the adults in question were completely absorbed in their mobile devices and distracted from their children.
One of the problems here is a culture clash. I'm about to "go Kentucky" on these folks and discipline their children for them if they won't do it themselves. I've bitten my tongue so far but I come from a land where any adult can chastise any child if their public behavior is out of line. It doesn't happen all the time and in recent years everyone has become more permissive toward children, regardless of geography. I don't necessarily mind that. I mean, I think it's a good thing that corporal punishment has gone the way of the toaster Mac.
But manners and consideration never go out of style. If you can't prevent your kids from racing in and out of a doctor's office building (where many sick and old folks are trying to get care), then please hold their hands. How about speaking to them if they do happen to get rowdy in the wrong place around the wrong people. I'm completely willing to understand that the child may have some issue going on at that moment, too, that explains their behavior. My point is, whatever the problem, I would appreciate it if the adult "in charge" would do something! I can certainly tell you what is NOT a recommended response: looking at my mom like SHE is the one who is supposed to accommodate your kid by getting out of the way.
Honestly...the children in my own life are just as wild and crazy as the next kids. The differences is, if one of them does flail in the vicinity of another person, they hear about it. Such was the case the first day my nephew came to visit his grandmother at her new place. My sister's kids are very polite children, but they are still children.
As we were on the way to mom's room, my nephew did one of those motions only an 11-year-old can manage where he sort of walk/jumped/hurled himself forward down the hallway. I don't remember if he was actually close to crashing into mom, but my sister immediately called him over with a stern whisper and I overheard bits and pieces of her reprimand as I continued on with mom.
"...now does that seem like a good idea?...you can SEE that grammy is having trouble walking...what are you thinking?...be more careful! I shouldn't have to tell you this..."
It hasn't happened since -- not that it won't. He's just a kid so I won't be surprised when he forgets himself. But my sister will handle it.
Now please don't make me handle YOUR kids. We finally got mom here safely. I'm not about to let your lack of good sense put her in a wheelchair!
I can NOT count the number of times in the past three days that I have watched children charge toward my mother as if she, with walker, could gracefully dodge their trajectory.
What the hell is wrong with people? And, by the way, I'm not talking about the kids here. I'm talking about the adults. I happen to think kids are supposed to be kids -- and adults are supposed to rein them in when they are on the verge of mowing down the elderly.
 |
| Could you let your kid mow down this sweet old lady? |
One of the problems here is a culture clash. I'm about to "go Kentucky" on these folks and discipline their children for them if they won't do it themselves. I've bitten my tongue so far but I come from a land where any adult can chastise any child if their public behavior is out of line. It doesn't happen all the time and in recent years everyone has become more permissive toward children, regardless of geography. I don't necessarily mind that. I mean, I think it's a good thing that corporal punishment has gone the way of the toaster Mac.
But manners and consideration never go out of style. If you can't prevent your kids from racing in and out of a doctor's office building (where many sick and old folks are trying to get care), then please hold their hands. How about speaking to them if they do happen to get rowdy in the wrong place around the wrong people. I'm completely willing to understand that the child may have some issue going on at that moment, too, that explains their behavior. My point is, whatever the problem, I would appreciate it if the adult "in charge" would do something! I can certainly tell you what is NOT a recommended response: looking at my mom like SHE is the one who is supposed to accommodate your kid by getting out of the way.
Honestly...the children in my own life are just as wild and crazy as the next kids. The differences is, if one of them does flail in the vicinity of another person, they hear about it. Such was the case the first day my nephew came to visit his grandmother at her new place. My sister's kids are very polite children, but they are still children.
As we were on the way to mom's room, my nephew did one of those motions only an 11-year-old can manage where he sort of walk/jumped/hurled himself forward down the hallway. I don't remember if he was actually close to crashing into mom, but my sister immediately called him over with a stern whisper and I overheard bits and pieces of her reprimand as I continued on with mom.
"...now does that seem like a good idea?...you can SEE that grammy is having trouble walking...what are you thinking?...be more careful! I shouldn't have to tell you this..."
It hasn't happened since -- not that it won't. He's just a kid so I won't be surprised when he forgets himself. But my sister will handle it.
Now please don't make me handle YOUR kids. We finally got mom here safely. I'm not about to let your lack of good sense put her in a wheelchair!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
The Boxmaster
Ruth, Divine Master of All Things Boxed, creating some order out of the chaos in mom's new apartment.
Thanks, Jerry
Jerry, the beleagured driver, unloading my grandmother's secretary. After being stuck in Arizona for two days with engine trouble, I think Jerry is as relieved as we are that he's here -- maybe more!
The Familiar & the Fresh
Ruth dusting off a shelf as the furniture is slowly coming into mom's apartment.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Roughing It
Mom taking a nap on my camping cot, her makeshift bed until the truck arrives.
It's actually pretty comfortable.
Grrrrr
Okay, shite happens. It's April Fool's Day after all.
The moving van broke down in Arizona. They are trying to fix it. Mom was pretty rattled but Ruth and I seem to have cheered her up.
We all decided to go to Ikea with our unintended free time. Stay tuned for various pics of that escapade!
Red Alert
No, she's not under house arrest. This is mom's solution to wearing her medical ID bracelet. She had a free ankle!
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