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.”
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