Mom Fears Being Seen as "Stuck Up" by Her Peers

On April 20, Suzy wrote in the Visitor’s Book, but there were things she left out.

When she arrived, Mother, in a very calm and matter-of-fact voice said that she was being framed and would be sent to jail soon, which wouldn't be nearly as nice as this place, and she wasn't happy about going.

She also said a lot about the other residents there being primarily people of color, which she would usually want the case to be.  The fact is they’re all white.  Only the staff has people of color.

During Suzy’s visit the med tech came in and gave her her meds with a tiny cup of water, and after the med tech left, Mother brought a pill to the front of her mouth and said what a bitter taste it had. Suzy ran to get her another cup of water so she could wash it down, afraid she'd take it out and throw it away. But she washed it down with the cup of water Suzy provided.

Me about the following day, Thursday, April 21, 2011

On Thu, Apr 21, 2011 at 4:09 PM, Tina Martin <tina_martin@sbcglobal.net> wrote:

Dear Kathy and Suzy,
       I was so happy to read what you wrote in the Visitor's Book, Suzy, about Mom's saying that she thought she could be very happy there at Aegis if she had visitors every day--and your reassuring that she would have (even if she occasionally sent them away to avoid their being killed and her being blamed).  

            When I arrived, I thought, "Oh, no..." because she greeted me with something about the likelihood of her getting stabbed because some of the people there...(I can't remember).  She told me that people thought she was "stuck up" because she asked questions when they had speakers, and she was trying not to ask so many questions, and that had helped.  I asked her about the speakers, and she said, "Oh, you know.  People talking about Guatemala because there are a lot of Guatemalans here."  

            Then she lowered her voice and said, "I did fine at the other places, but this one is hard because of it's being the lower economic strata.”

             I loved that part!  This time (unlike the first time Nan came) she remembered Nan's visit, but Mom said that Nan had brought her so many nice things, and people saw Nan leaving without the things that she'd brought in, so they knew that Mom had probably gotten them, which was just going to make them think she was more stuck up than
ever.  

            I'd brought a pot of yellow daffodils because I thought they looked Eastery and bright, but she told me it would be better for me to leave with them and just tell people I'd come to show them to her but was certainly not going to leave them with her.
       Then Mom asked me whether I'd heard the sad news about the children on Poshard Road.      "Do you get the paper?  I read about them in the paper.  They've disappeared.  Or maybe they've been killed.  Now, don't go telling everyone."  

            I told her I would Google that news before passing on the word.  

            (I did Google it and found that the address on Poshard  where they live was last sold for
$616,000 on Jun 3rd, 2010.  That's $310 per square foot.)
       But once she started focusing on Kay and her imminent return, Mom "acted" better, and I think there's a value in acting.  There's some method that says when you act a feeling you can start to feel it.  Mom wanted to make the bed and get out of the room so Kay could come in.
            Kay, meanwhile, was at the door in her wheelchair talking to herself.  I went to the door and greeted Kay, and Mom called me back with one of those "Show some intelligence!" voices.        Then we both said hello to Kay, and Mom and I started towards the sitting room, but this time like the last time someone else was there watching TV, so we saw Divina, and I told her that Kay could have some privacy in the room if she wanted it while Mom and I were visiting. (Kay did NOT want to be included.)  

             Divina took her instead into the dining room, and Kay said Mom was wearing her pullover and started crying.  

            Mom gave her the pot of daffodils and said, "Look at what Tina brought you."  

            We left it on the table there.  Then we went back into the room, and Adele joined us "to see if there's something I'm supposed to check here."

             In spite of her misgivings (BMs), Mom ate half of the sandwich and Adele had a bite, but neither of them wanted the cheesecake I made.  

            Mother was very gracious to everyone, and a really interesting exchange took place.           Mother started telling Adele about her dad's grocery store during the Depression and how it was such a losing venture, and then with World War Two, there was that..."What was that
program called, Tina?"  

            I said, "Oh, you mean the WP..." and Adele said, “The WPA!  The Works Project Administration...I know because my dad lost his grocery store during the Depression, and that saved him."  

            I thought that that was the fastest incorporation/internalization of another person's experience that I'd ever heard or else that she really did have an experience similar to Mom's (which is what I do think).  Either way, it's fascinating.  

            Then Kathy (who knew the “Workers Puttering Around” mock-name for the  WPA that Mom said had hurt her father) came and brought an adorable bunny, and Mom at first looked crestfallen, as if now people would really think she was "stuck up," getting one more adorable, loving gift. This couldn't go on.    

            But Mom came out of that pretty well.  

            We couldn't find Mom's missing sandals, but Olga came in and explained that she
had washed them (maybe because of an accident Mom had in the bathroom?), and she wasn't sure they were quite dry.  Mom asked me to go with Olga to look, and I think she may have wanted to be alone with Kathy, but her explanation was that Olga was something like family, so someone should go with her to be familial or it would seem...

            She couldn't quite find the word, but I think she may have thought that it would seem as if Olga were our servant or something instead of a member of the family.

            Olga gave Mom a really warm hug and said that Mom had played the piano and she, Olga, had sung along.  

            I asked Mom what she had played, and she said she played just the old familiar
songs she's played for us, nothing that would appear stuck up to the people (of this lower economic strata).
       When I said goodbye, Mom asked when I was coming back, and when I
said I couldn't come on Saturday, Mom once again made reference to her job.
            Would she be working on Saturday?  

            I left before Kathy did, and when I was walking out the front door, Dee ran after me to say how surprised she was that Mom was almost 90, that she looked so good, and she loved Mom's new hair cut.  

            I told Dee about Kay's sadness, and she said, "She has her good days and her bad," and I thought yes, like Mom and like all of us, and I thought of what the author of The Emperor of Maladies:  The Biography of
Cancer said:  We should never think of people who are ill or otherwise forlorn (not the right word) as "The Other."  We are them.  (Pardon my grammar, but I can’t stand “We are they”!)
        I left feeling really good about where Mom is.  

            This wasn't her best day, but I really got to feeling that she can adapt and that this
really is the best place we could possibly find for her.  Even the stress she feels because of having to think of others all the time might actually be healthy to some extent and might, from time to time, help her come out of her most agonized emotional states.
       I love this picture of  Mom, Kathy, and Ada!

       Love,
       Tina
PS  Suzy, I'll write you separately about David's annual meeting, but
there's less to say!