Labor
Day, September 5, 2011
Dear
Kathy and Suzy,
I took Mom to eat in the main dining
room, but I think it was probably a mistake.
I kind of wanted to try it when I could but during the week I can never
get there early enough unless there’s a holiday, like today.
Someone named Pheng Burlingame
(husband’s last name) was almost complaining about Mom and called her “a tough
cookie.” I told her how wonderful Mom
is, so I’m sure Pheng didn’t find me very supportive of her. Mom was concerned about
the bathroom but made the decision without any pressure from me to wear only
one padded panty because she said “it was awful heavy” with two. I reminded her that on Saturday she’d said
she wanted to go to the “other” dining room, but that was, of course, when she
was already on that side of the door.
Before we went out, she stood by the bathroom door and asked me to stand
over by the window so she could see whether she could walk to me. She could.
When we went out the 4,3,2,1 # door,
she worried that they wouldn’t take her back and she’d lose her living
arrangement. She repeated that refrain
several times. Some very nice people
came through to greet all the diners, and Carol (one of the concierges) was
particularly kind, friendly, and reassuring to Mom. Mom really seemed to believe what Carol
said. Rocsana also came by with medicine
and was her usual sweet self.
At one point, Mom wanted to go to
the bathroom, and she wanted me to come with her. I said, “I’ll leave my Giants bag so they
know we’re coming back.”
She said, “Leave your money. Then they won’t care.”
I thought that showed good thinking.
Besides worrying that they’d take
her back, she asked, “Will they accept me?” as if she were going to a new
place.
But Mom didn’t eat much, and I
failed to get her a vanilla shake today.
I don’t think I’m going to be able to get back there until Sunday, but
starting then, I’m going to take a different route to be sure that getting her
a milk shake becomes part of the routine.
She ate half of the veggie burger and bun and just a couple of bites of
cherry pie. She drank some milk.
She asked repeatedly about where she
was going to be, and when I took her back to the door, she made the usual
protest. “This isn’t where I wanted to
wind up,” she said.
When I coaxed her in, she said, “And
then they’ll say, ‘Nadine, come and play the piano.’” I said, “Well, don’t you want to play the
piano?” and she said, “Not when I have to poop.”
She seemed really tired, and I hope
she got a nice long nap.
If I ever take her to the “finer”
dining room, it’ll be a Sat. or Sun. when, then and there, she says she wants
to eat there! I also like your
suggestion, Kathy, that we invite another Perry resident like Sylvia or maybe Ada
to eat with us.
Love,
Tina
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