Dear
Kathy and Suzy,
I sure was impressed by Suzy’s house! It’s really pretty—and so big!
But on the subject of Mom…Jonathan and I got there around 10:10, and Dee had
already told us that she’d found Mom reading the newspaper, and when she asked how
she was doing, Mom said something like, “I’m not sure yet.” She wasn’t
sure with us, either, but she went from being in a nightmare state to being
pretty “awake” (though very tired) and over the nightmare between 10:10 and 11:40, when we left.
She was in the Perry dining area when I entered first and said, “Mom, look
who’s here!” When she saw Jonathan, she said, “Hi! When are you
coming back?” She made it clear that this was not a good time for us to
be there. She was worried that the newspaper—which I think she thought
was a report for her work—wasn’t quite right. She showed us one section
and said, “Don’t you see? This isn’t right. These are too
old. These movies aren’t playing anymore. It’s not supposed to be
the googie. It’s not supposed to be this.”
Jonathan told her she didn’t need to
worry about it, and Mom said, “Yes, I do need to worry about it. Don’t
you see? He has this one, and this one, and I have to…”
Then she said (again), “When are you
coming back? I’ve got a date with the piano.”
She started to move towards the
piano, and then pulled back. I asked whether she’d like to sit down on
the sofa, and I told her how comfortable it was.
She said, “It wouldn’t be
comfortable if you were in my situation.”
She saw the two empty food bins and
asked Jonathan, “You didn’t take anything out of that, did you?” Jonathan
said he didn’t and asked whether Mom would like to sit in the dining area.
“Nobody
wants me to sit here. “ Then she looked over at Sylvia, who as usual was
sitting alone. “See how she’s glaring at me. They’re going to start
coming in here like rats.”
She told us to go and that she had
to go (“Go! Get out!”), and she left us.
Jonathan and I waited, hoping she’d
wake up from her nightmare and be in a better state of mind.
After a few minutes, I went to her
room, and when she saw me, she said, “Oh, no! Get out of here!
We’ve just talked this through!”
But
when she came out, Divina was able to get her over to the piano, and once she’d
played Fur Elise and a couple of sing-along songs (with us singing along), she
seemed to be in a better state. We all applauded, and she smiled
(toothless) and told Divina, “That’s my daughter and grandson.”
Before we left, I told Mom I loved
her, and she said, “I don’t have any adverse feelings towards you at all—not
towards either of you,” which prompted Jonathan to say, “That may be the
sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Jonathan got Mom to talk a little
bit about New York. She didn’t remember the name of the people she stayed
with back in the nineteen forties, but she knew they were Jewish and said they
were probably deceased by now because when she knew them “they were already in
their…goodest…best years.”
Mom remembered that she had worked at Woolworth’s and lived
around 80th and
Broadway. She laughed when he reminded
her of how the landlady would pass Daddy money when she knew Daddy was
taking Mom out, and the daughter of the
landlady thought that she should be collecting
rent money rather than providing money for her tenant’s outings.
At one point, Jonathan said, “You’re right,” and Mom said, “It’s good to be
right.”
Sometime during our visit, she said she was happy for people to whiz by to see
her, but “I don’t want them to have to stay on my mind when I’m trying to
escape something.”
She also spoke a little bit about
her birthday and said she hoped to be in better shape.
I
asked her how she would like to be, and she said, “Velte. I’ll even have
my teeth.” (It was hard for her to
say “svelte” without her teeth.)
She seemed so, so tired, but she was
trying to be gracious and asked Jonathan, “Tell me a little about your work in
New York. Is it a lot like what you were doing in California?”
Then she said she was glad to
be alive (or some such thing) because God had given her life, and she thanked
him and was even “trying some Catholic things” like crossing
herself. She showed us how she did this, adding a little forefinger
ahead of time, as if to get His attention or make a special connection like Da
Vinci’s Adam to God. (Jonathan says it’s something more than just “God I
don’t like this.” She said, “And I say, ‘I know you have about 12,000
people to take care of, but here’s one more.’”
(Jonathan tells me that she actually said “I know you have about 6,000
messages today.” I don’t know why I
doubled the number and changed messages
to people to take care of!)
I looked for her Ensure in her refrigerator, and there wasn’t any. I
looked in the refrigerator in the dining room, too, and then I asked Tenzin,
who went to another area and brought some back. Mom drank some of
it. Then as politely as possible with people who are really dense, she
encouraged us to leave.
When she saw us off, she also announced that she didn’t want to have lunch, but
we’re hoping she changed her mind. It was only 11:40 when we left.
Jonathan has improved the accuracy of my report, and I hope he contributes my
errors in syntax to careless deletion and proof-reading.
Love,
Tina
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