Thursday, February 28, 2013

July Fourth Mother Plans to Move Out--but Where To?--and Writes to David


July 4, 2011

Dear Kathy and Suzy,
            My hour with Mom (11 to 12) was pretty uneventful.  When I came in the room, she was talking to Kay, but Kay wasn’t there.
             Mom told me that she was going to have to move, and she was going to ask Kay whether she could have the afternoon.  Could we bring boxes?  She was going to have to get everything out of her bureau drawers and off the top, and if she knew where she was going to go, she could get out more easily. 
            She’s never seen a silver dollar coming her way from me,” Mom said, “And it’s true that she has provided everything, though not with jocularity.” 
            I tried to convince Mom that Kay wasn’t really her landlady and didn’t really own the place, but Mom said she thought she should just withdraw some money and pay her for everything.   
            Mom used the word loony several times, but not in reference to Kay.  I did that, but very respectfully. 
            “She can’t help it,” I pointed out, the way Missy used to.  I also told Mom that we’ve talked to the staff about a possible change of rooms or roommates, and in the meantime, she, Mom, didn’t have to do any packing.
            I  took Mom some of the chocolate cake I made and told her about our celebration of the Fourth yesterday on the third, and I showed her the pictures of David with Deb’s dog and with Suzy, and she first told me she’d like to have the prints, and then she told me I’d better get them out of the room because she had to get everything out.
             But she was happy when I told her that Dana had asked David whether he was pretty content, and he had said, “Yeah.  I’m content.”   
            Mom said, “Yes, because he’s in a place where there are more people like him—and I won’t say loony—than ever before.” 
            I told her about David’s bonding with Deb’s dog, and she said, “I’ll bet!  Because when we had dogs, he was never mature enough not to harass them.” 
            She was also happy about your job, Suzy, and remembered that you were worried that “the community would rise up against her.”
             I told her that Dana had commented “on your elegance…and something else.” 
            “Poise?” Mom suggested.
            I’d written David a short letter to go with the pictures, so I asked Mom whether she’d like to add to it, and she said yes.  She opened with “Dear Son,” and she told David how much I loved him and how many ways I had of showing this love—like bringing chocolate cake.  Then she re-read that, and said it didn’t make sense because I’d brought the cake to her, not to him. 
            Does she sometimes feel she’s him, he’s her?
            She wanted to tear up the note, but she wrote on that I’d told her about his relationship with his new HATCH worker and “NIAD volunteers.” 
            When I suggested artists/art teachers, she added “artists for the most part.”
              She also commented on how sweet he looked with the doggy. 
            Her final paragraph was “Looking forward to seeing you and having lunch at Applebys, still my favorite lunch out.” 
            When did she last have lunch out?  Was that in February, when she was first diagnosed?
            There was kind of a urine smell, but we both sniffed her pads, and they didn’t smell bad.  I couldn’t find a brush for Mom, but she took my lipstick (which I left with her—though I think she has her own) and put some on. 
            Then we went on to the dining room a bit early, but she said, “Nobody wants to sit with me.” 
            We passed by a table of four—Ada, Bobbie, May, and Franz—and Ada stood up to give me a hug (or was it to get a hug?), and then Mom said, “Well, I’m not going to miss out on this,” so Ada gave her a hug too. 
            Then we sat down with Carol, Joy, and Doris.  Doris said nothing the whole time except, “That’s bad!”  Then she bowed her head of beautiful white hair (like the clouds Mom likes).
             I asked Mom whether I should read the USA Today that we were going to read to each other.  She pointed out an item, so I read about Elizabeth Taylor’s jewels going on tour and then to auction, and no one said much except Carol, who said she didn’t really want them, and Doris who said, “That’s bad!” 
            Mom said, “Read something more intellectual,” so I read the main article about Ernest Hemingway and just who he really was.  I left out the part about his shooting himself in the head—just out of prudence. 
            But even when I read about Paris at Midnight and a new novel about Hemingway, the most I got were nods and Doris’ “That’s bad.” 
            Mom told me to explain who Hemingway was, and I did, and at least they nodded before nodding off, but Mom pointed out, “You’re losing your audience.  Two of them are asleep and the others don’t care.” 
            So I stopped reading, and Mom kept asking whether they’d already eaten. 
            “Have you?  Have you?”  I wondered whether Jonathan had told her about the experiment they did with Alzheimer’s patients, calling them to lunch, and just after they’d eaten, calling them back, so that they ate three times in succession before they noticed that they really weren’t hungry.
            Whatever the case, Mom kept asking, “Have you eaten?  Have you?” and Doris said, “That’s bad,” and I assured Mom that lunch hadn’t been served yet. 
            I asked them whether they wanted me to take a picture of them so they could look at that while waiting for the Fourth of July special, and they said yes, so I took a couple of pictures and showed them.  Carol told Doris, “Smile!  Smile!”  And you know what Dory said. 
            Then I told Mom I had to leave but would be back Thursday. 
            “Tomorrow?” she asked, and I told her I had a bone density test tomorrow, and she said, “Well, I wouldn’t bend over in front of the doctor if I were you” because once again I was wearing a summer blouse showing how little I had to compete with Dana’s pulchritude.       
            I guess my hour was more eventful than I thought.  It certainly brought up two concerns:  Deciding what to do about Mom’s roommate situation (maybe find her someone with more “jocularity”) and figuring out a way for Mom to see David.

            Love,
            Tina
PS  I’ll send the pictures separately.  More chocolate cake is in the refrigerator. Please eat it before it gets stale!

Mom’s note to David:


                                                July 4, 2011
Dear Son,
            Tina loves you & obviously has many ways of showing this love.  Today she brought some choclate treat (a cake sample made by her) and told me about your relationship with your new Hatch worker & Niad volunteers (artists for the most part).  She showed me snaps of you, & you look so sweet with the doggy.
            Looking forward to seeing ou and having lunch a Applebys (still my favorite lunch out!)  Love always Mom

I didn’t say this in the letter, but Mom had some words to describe Deb.  She said “She’s weird, isn’t she?  I’d never say that to her…or to Suzy. …She’s definitely out of the mainstream.”

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Dana, Ada, and Mom as a Negotiator, Therapist, Counselor


Mom (and David) on June 28 and 29, 2011 During Dana’s visit.

Hi, Suzy~
            Dana got off this morning a little after 5:00.  She wanted Karl, not me, to take her, so he did!  I sent them off with Magic Cookie Bars, but Dana left a pink purse with lots of $20 bills and a Master Card under my car seat.  I guess she got off without using it.
            David was in pretty good spirits yesterday.  Since we’re going to be taking him to El Sobrante on Sunday, Dana and I took him to El Tapatio, where the waitress was really friendly and he ate well.  I like those new carpet-like designs they have on the streets at Fruitvale and International! 
            As usual, David didn’t have a lot to say although he did offer that there were two new residents, and one of them had “eyes like my social worker.”  I thought  “Kazuko?” because of my familiarity with stereotypes, but I asked, “Mary?” and he said, “No.  The other one.  I don’t remember her name.” 
            I suggested Reiko, and he agreed, but I don’t think Reiko is his social worker.  What is her position?  Dana pulled her eyes up with her fingers (with nails that Mom would later say are perfect for Halloween), and David said that was what he meant by the eyes.
            I asked David whether he’d gotten my postcard from Germany, and he said, “I think the techs stole it!”  I expressed doubt and asked, “Do you think they collect postcards?”  and he said, “Well if they’re concerned, they should ask me about it.”  The rest of the time he seemed content to listen to us—and content was what Dana asked him about being.
             “Are you pretty content?” 
            David said, “Yeah!” 
            She also asked him whether he knew about Mom.
             “She’s getting old,” he said, and Dana said, “More than that.” 
            David said, “She’s losing some of her senses.” 
            I told him again how often she asks about him and expresses the thought and hope that he’s content.  I also said--sincerely! When can we arrange this?-- that we’ll take him to see Mom since she can’t come to see him.  (I still have some hope that she might be able to go out now that she’s not obsessed with staying near the toilet, but I think the disorientation of going out AND of seeing David for the first time in so long—When was the last time?  Christmas?--would be too much.) 
            Dana got home (here) around 11:00 PM, after seeing you, Mom, and Karl’s school in Vallejo.  We talked until about 2:00 am. 
            She told me she’d enjoyed seeing you and had had a long conversation and then found out that Karl had a flat tire, which had added to your anxiety about the next day and interview.  That was too bad! 
            Then she told me about seeing Mom early evening Tuesday, when Karl just dropped her off so he could fix the flat tire and she could have one-to-one contact with Mom. 
            She said that Mom showed no recollection of seeing her the previous  day but seemed happy to see her and said that it was “remarkable” that she was there. 
            She also said, “Those are the cutest shoes and stockings I’ve ever seen.  You look so adorable.” 
            Mom was watching a show, and Dana said, “I did my masterpiece of quiet.” 
            (We’d talked about how we probably overwhelmed Mom on Monday, and I told her what Jonathan had told me about being not just patient but calm.) 
            I think they had a good visit, but Ada had said she felt left out, and when Mom said, “Well, I haven’t seen this daughter for five years.  Would it be all right if we talked?”  Ada just scowled. 
            Then Dana said she tucked Mom into bed, but Mom got right up again. 
            Dana said that she thought Mom seemed elegant and brilliant, and I know what she means.  Dana and I don’t always (maybe not even often) perceive things the same way, but we agreed on that.  Mom played Clair du Lune and was, according to Dana, “at her dignified best.”  Dana said that Mom said she was head of everything and added, “I’m the head of myself.” 
            Yesterday, I went in first, while Dana was using  the restroom at Aegis, and Mom was watching Lucille Ball (again) with a group of other residents.  She was sitting perpendicular to Ada, who did not jump up and ask to be hugged. 
            Mom seemed to remember that Dana had come the previous day.  When Dana came in, we moved from the TV room to the garden.  Ada did jump up to go with us, and I told her she was welcome to come out with us even though I thought it would be nice to have the chance to talk to Mom without Ada’s complaints that she didn’t feel included.  I hoped that Ada would walk around the garden.  I was happy Mom was willing to go out to the garden even though she said, “We won’t stay long.” 
            When I said, “Oh, I love that garden!” she said, “Well, you don’t have to worry about things,” and when I asked her “what things?” fearing that it was going to be BMs, she said, “Magical things you have to attend to.”   
            I think she may really have forgotten that her reason for staying in for so many months was  her bowels. 
            Someone was leading a gospel sing in the main living room, and Mom knew another way out—a way that was less disruptive.
            Ada did not walk around the garden after Mom, Dana, and I were seated.  She said she wanted to sit down too, so I got up and gave her my place.  I gave her a picture I took of her and Karl.  But she still said, after a couple of minutes, “I don’t feel included.  I feel that I’m not wanted.” 
            We repeated the refrain about the wish to talk to Dana,  who was here from Chicago, and Ada said, “I know.  I just don’t feel wanted, so I’m going in.” 
            We said okay, and she went in.  Mom said, “I think it’s time for us all to go in.”  
            So we did, and there was Ada, who asked, “Can I come with you?”  So…we all went back in the Perry section, and for a while we sat in the little room with the stuffed animals.  Ada stayed with us, and repeated her refrain, which led to Mom’s being the therapist/peace-maker/mediator for the two of them. 
            Mother said, “Just yesterday, we went out together.” 
            Mom also asked her something like, “How do you plan to reintegrate back into society?” and made a reference to dealing with the “powers that be.”  She said they could then work on projects. 
            Mom mentioned politics and maybe a music event. 
            “Are you employed now?” Mom asked Ada, and Ada said, “Yes, but not every day.    Once in a while I have to work.” 
            Mom said that if Ada gave her her telephone number, she would call her, and they could do something “if you have the time and interest.”
             Then Ada said that she had to take care of their children, and Mom asked her how old they were.
`           “They’re in junior high.” 
             “And is their father around?” Mom asked.
             “I don’t want to talk about that!”  Ada said. 
            Later she said that she and her husband felt that taking care of the children was the most important thing in their lives. 
            Mom asked where they lived, and first Ada said they lived in Berkeley, and then she said they lived around Walnut Creek.
             Dana commented, “Ada wants to be friends on her terms,” and Ada said, “No, it doesn’t have to be on my terms, but I just feel that you’re always scolding me,” and she looked at Mom.       Dana said, “Yes, Mom, you do look like your scolding people,” and I said, “I feel that Mom’s trying to communicate in a positive way,” and Mom said to Ada, “I think you may be projecting your anxieties into me.” 
            Ada said, “Well, you make me feel that I don’t belong,” and Mom said that she included her there when she was playing the piano for the residents and “You could have been one of those persons.” 
             Ada said, “But that was for everybody,” and Mom said, “But you were included,” and Ada said,  “I just don’t feel I belong,” and Mom said, “Next time let’s do things differently.  I want us to be close and not fearsome.  I’ll see what I can do.” 
            At the end of our visit, instead of saying, “Come again, but don’t come soon” as she had on Monday, she said, “Try to come more often.” 
            I was impressed by how Mom was once again working hard to make peace, to articulate her feelings and give options. 
            Carol greeted us as we were leaving and asked, “How did it go?”  Dana and I answered simultaneously. 
            Dana said, “Awful!”  and I say “Good!” 
            What do you think?
            It’s true that not much of our visit was directed towards Dana.  The questions Mom had about her were questions she asked on Tuesday, apparently, when Mom asked questions that were really about when Dana was first married. 
            But I think that Dana got to see Mom functioning purposefully—alive and active in the moment and being part of society. 
            Remember how, in the hospital, when we told Mom that she’d be going to a retirement home she said, “I’ll be an outcast from society, and I’ll be forgotten.”
              I think she really feels she’s connecting with society at Aegis even if she’s having to work really hard to get through to people like (are any other people like?) Ada.
            (She wasn’t really connecting with society on Poshard Street, where she was almost a recluse—making demands and, ultimately, accusations rather than playing the social worker!)           Oh, and I forgot to mention Kay.  At one point we went to the patio area behind the dining area, and I showed Mom some pictures I’d taken of her and Dana and Karl, and then I went to get the white binder album for the pictures, and Kay was sitting on Mom’s bed.  I said hello and she said hello and then added, “I’d just like you to get her things and get out of here.”              Kay’s daughter Donna was visiting, and when Mom came in to use the bathroom, Kay repeated the “I’d like you to get your things and get out of here,” and Mom said something like, “Well, maybe I can find another room or another roommate,” and Kay said, “What’s wrong with you?”
            Mom said, “Well, I think that there must be something wrong with me or you wouldn’t want me out of here.” 
            I’m not sure whether we ever reminded Mom that rejection can sometime reflect on the rejector more than on the rejectee, but that certainly fit into a talk Dana and I had about Good Will Hunting and the break-through moment when the therapist said, “It’s not your fault…It’s not your fault…It’s not your fault.”
            And each time Will said, “I know!  I know!  I know!”  until he finally really heard and started sobbing.
            I think we were with Mom from around 1:40 to 3:00, but I’m not sure. 
            Dana and I then called Kathy and went by and had a nice dinner together at La Pomodoro! 
            I think we dropped Kathy off on Poshard around 8:00 PM.  All, and all, I think it was a really nice visit.  I feel pretty good about how Mom’s adjusting, and I think that Kathy and Dana do too.  How do you feel?
            I hope you’ll soon hear that your job is more secure and you’re contracted in a new and better way.
            Love,
            Tina

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Dana's Visits to Mom at Aegis



Visit with Mom Monday, June 26, 2011

Dear Kathy and Suzy,
                I hope Dana will have a one-to-one  visit with Mom today.  I think yesterday’s was a bit overwhelming with the three of us, but overall it was good, I think.  
            Mother was sitting in the dining room with Carol, Frank, and Ada,  and when she saw Dana, Mom threw up her arms in welcome. 
            Dana commented on how thin she was, and Mom said something to the effect that she had been overeating because she was unhappy, but now she didn’t have to overeat.  (That was a new one!)
            Dana reminded Mom of the idea Mom had expressed several years ago about checking into a motel and just talking with no distractions.   She asked Mom if she would still like to do that, and Mom said no, basically, that she didn’t think that would be appropriate now.   
            Karl and Ada bonded, and then Mom asked Karl to say what he thought of her, Mom.  (That was a new one, too—in contrast to the plea that we don’t compliment her for fear that they others will be jealous.) 
            Mom and Ada both thought Dana and I were dressed inappropriately.  (Pictures attached separately.)  Mom turned to me and whispered, “I think you’re concerned with your sister’s pulchritude and you’re competing a bit, but you’d better button it up.” 
            Dana and I both draped our respective sweaters over our unrespectable “cleavage,” a word more apt for Dana than for me.  (Apparently Ada had already told her that one of “those” was popping out, and she’d “better put it back in.”) 
             Mom played the piano—and very well!  She first played “Claire du Lune,” not exactly a sing-along but very pretty. 
            Then she asked whether it was anyone’s birthday, and none of the residents (who were scattered throughout the room) said that it was, but Mom played “Happy Birthday” anyway.      Then after a while she started feeling uneasy about the people there who didn’t have a grandmother who played the piano and would feel bad. 
            I think she wanted me to gather people together to be part of it, but I didn’t do that. 
            “Is anyone singing besides YOU people?” she asked. 
            I told her Bobbie was listening and applauding.  Then Mom said we should go. 
            She said, “Come back, but not soon.” 
            I think there were just too many of us, so, as I say, I hope Dana will go back today without Karl, me, or her cleavage and have a less chaotic time with Mom after she and Karl have lunch with you, Suzy.
            Tomorrow’s plan is that  I’ll take Dana to see David at Garfield, and we’ll take him out to lunch, and then I’ll drop Dana by Aegis so she sees Mom one more time before she (Dana) leaves, and then we’ll call you, Kathy, and if Plan B hasn’t already supplanted Plan A, we’ll see you late afternoon.


                        Love,
                          Tina

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