More thoughts on aging parents

The first night in the FROG - family room over the garage - for you non-Carolinians - I thought it was a little cold. It was not until the next day I realized at least two of the windows were open at the top - obviously inadvertently left open by someone, as the dollar bills flew out the window on winter days and nights. How long they were open I don't know. For all I know, dollar bills were flying out the air conditioned house all summer as well. Other than my first night staying in the FROG, the house was kept a little warm for my tastes, but I understand older people tend to be colder.

I didn't mention last post how I cleared out my parents' freezers, one in the kitchen proper and one in the garage. How many bags of frozen vegetables and cheese does one need? One piece of salmon in the garage freezer was dated 2006 - need I say more? I made an executive decision to chuck out all opened bags (for the most part - unless it was something really good like nuts) so a human, any human, could actually see what was in the freezers.

After I left, my Dad took a hard fall - complete with hitting his head - all for a donut crumb. Now I don't know if he found that crumb but I hope it's the last time he tries that.

During my visit to N.C., one of my mom's friends joined us for lunch one day. She was looking for common ground and asked me "Do you like the wine - like your mother?" For the most part wine give me a headache, but that doesn't stop me a lot of the time.

Unrelated thoughts

• We have had a couple nipping incidents with Toto, after 6 months in our family. I've even taken to watching the dog whisperer and even called in a dog trainer. More on our session next post. The common denominator in all incidents is that I was present . . .and Toto has felt confined. As my father-in-law said, "If he really wanted to he could do some damage." This actually gave me some hope but I don't want to find out if he can do some damage - I want to nip it.

• Daniel asked me what it took to be a big boy.

1. Potty trained - check
2. Know how to read - learning
3. Eat all vegetables - mostly

• Upon seeing my bra hanging in my room, Daniel asked what it was. "Those are my holsters," I replied, within earshot of Doug. I heard Doug shortly thereafter explaining to Daniel that it is actually called a bra . . .

Life in the SLOW lane

It was not as bad as I thought it would be - visiting my parents for four days. They are OLD and with mom's suspect driving and Dad's Parkinson's, I thought I'd better check in on them.

Mom's driving checked out O.K. She has strategies to cross roads only at lights and secret back ways through parking lots or service roads she likes to use to avoid the main, four lane drag. I can't blame her - New Bern, N.C. is not an easy place to drive.

Though when I told Doug she drove he said I was taking my life into my hands. I did drive after talking to him, but I had to see how she drove for myself. Dad thought she could drive for another year or two, but how he knows this I am not sure, as he is basically house-bound.

As his body gives way - his mind remains fairly sharp. He's practically helpless but can walk, albeit slowly, and he can still eat by himself. As I said to my Mom, "He hasn't lost his appetite." But he's going to need some serious help soon. When I went out for a walk one day, I returned to a poop emergency. He pooped in his pants going down the hall to the bathroom. My mother told him that when he feels the slightest inkling, he needs to head for the toilet. "I could sit on the toilet half the day," he explained. She thought that's what he should do then. Doug wondered about diapers and I'll have to suggest that to my mother. She gets so fed up cleaning up his poopy PJs she just chucks them out and I can't blame her. I remember throwing out quite a few pair of undies when the boys where potty training.

So my Dad needs lots of help. He is totally dependent on her - even to help him up off the couch which requires quite a bit of strength. He explained the method to me "Don't let go until I let go, because even though I am on my feet, I am not that stable."

As he turns more helpless and childlike, a transformation is taking place - he's becoming sweeter, less argumentative, at least to me. And childlike is the best parallel - he needs help w/ his shoes. His nose drips. I cut his finger and toe nails. I help him on with his shirt. But I wasn't prepared to help him get dressed after the poop incident and subsequent shower even though it was difficult for my mom. No, I wasn't ready to see his privates.

His sense of humor is still intact - I don't remember him laughing so much. He took great delight in recounting text from a humorous author who wrote - "Shut up," he explained. I can't remember the author's name. . .He was also caught red handed bent awkwardly under a table looking for his doughnut crumb - at the risk of great injury.

His appearance was a bit funny when I arrived and Dad bore an uncanny resemblance to Ben Frankin - bald on top with long locks. I gave him a hair cut with the kitchen scissors because that's all they had.

The appearance of the house was another matter. There are piles and piles of papers everywhere. It's like my mother has turned into a hoarder. I cleaned out eight huge trash bags and a mountain of cardboard but didn't go near the piles of paper. Next trip. And there are boxes in most rooms that never got unpacked from when they moved to N.C. four years ago. . .

My first day there I went to the grocery store with Mom and was surprised to see that she rides the electric cart. "It's alot faster," she explained. "Follow me." And off she roared. I have a hilarious picture of her on the cart and will try to figure out how to get it off my phone. "Anybody behind me?" as she proceeded to back up. The personnel in the store all seem to know her by name and are all very helpful and polite.

At Curves I met Penny who works there and the regulars who 'work out.' Work out is one loose term but they seem to have a real camaraderie up there. As Penny explained the machines to me, my mother began her circuit. Penny's instructions included things like "Kiss my butt" and “Vanilla ice cream, chocolate ice cream." She instructed me carefully and I think she was worried I might hurt myself. She also explained that my mother doesn't do the machines the correct way, so don't follow her - but it was all O.K.

As one of the caregivers from Seniors Staying At Home said of my mom, "She doesn't think she needs help, but she does." A sign on the oven says "Turn off when done cooking" in my Mom's handwriting. At the department store called Belk, she emerged from the ladies room with a trail of toilet paper. At Harris Tweeter (groceries), it was the paper toilet seat cover. I did find the oven on (with nothing cooking), water running, and watched her drive in the middle of the road in her development - though no cars were coming, it had me concerned.

I had a pleasant visit with long sleeps, long walks, and time catching up with my parents amidst my chores of cleanup and assistance. Life moves very slow down there . . . . forget a To Do list.

As I left my Dad asked, "Do you need any money?" and Mom asked me outside "Do you have enough money?"

I thought I could sing

To support the school play, I signed up for the adult chorus. It was clear from the moment I walked in to the first practice that I was out of my league. They handed each of us a big black book with the scores and it was apparent many of the singers could sight read i.e. read a note and literally sing it. Now I can read music but I have no experience with sight reading. This came to light when a few of the notes in one song were apparently wrong - singers were penciling in the correct notes on the staff. I didn't bother because, as I explained, I will be singing strickly by ear.

Or will I? I actually contemplated dropping out after the first practice because the songs were hard. Dam hard. One of them had something like six flats.

I feel like I can sing somewhat and carry a tune but it was hard to pick up any tune in any of the songs. I even asked the choir leader if the songs were hard and he confirmed they were. Why write a song with no tune - I ask?

On the upside, I met more than a few nice people at the practice.

A room of my own

I’ve decided I need a room of my own but where that room will be yet I don’t know. I’ve even contemplated turning our walk-in closet into an office. Or better yet converting the garage into living space. Or further still, building myself a little outbuilding. I shall have my own office/my own room in time. I need one. I feel like I have no privacy or uninterrupted time. I have resorted to hiding my gloves, neck warmer, and hats in rarely used coats in the closet lest they be worn by others. I want my own stuff and living in a family can get a little too communal sometimes. Is that too much to ask?

I have a shelf in the kitchen that says ‘Mom’s shelf: Do Not Disturb’ and for the most part that mandate is respected. But if my calculator is gone – watch out.
Yes a room of my own. Perhaps I can keep my hats and gloves in there too.

Unrelated thoughts

-With Christmas over, I was really thinking that I wanted to do something different next year like go skiing at a kid-friendly resort in Vermont. When I let this slip out, the kids seemed devastated. Hmm. Do I do what I want to do or what they want to do? I need a change and I know I will wish I was away at Christmas time next year.

-Speaking of regrets, a few days ago I was thinking that I had a lot of regrets in my life with the full realization that this is not productive thinking. How would my life have been different if I had been an English major? How would my life be different if I had gone to law school? On and on. Part of me wishes I had an established, successful career with recognition to boot. But alas I know I am meant to be here right now just as I am. Perhaps in my next life I will focus early and know exactly what I am meant to be and become it.

-I was reminded the other day whilst story telling how easy it was shopping for my prom dress compared to my two sisters. My mother looked at me stunned after we picked out a dress in what seemed like five minutes and said something like “Wow, that was easy.” My wedding dress was the same way.

-‘I am not a pork chop’ – heard echoing down the stairwell, as an irritated Daniel responded to his brother.

-There are certain guarantees in life – Doug will get a plaid shirt as a gift at Xmas time from his mother (sometimes two), Betsey will bring her spinach dip to the next pot luck, airline travel will suck . . . you get the idea.

-I just remembered that my first and only newspaper editor called me ‘Miss No Comma’ – hope that issue doesn’t bother you.

The night the babysitter peed on our rug

When I was just breaking into the writing field I decided to interview a young woman who had worked for us as a babysitter previously. She had a heartbreaking accident that left her debilitated - details of which I won't go into here so as not to reveal her identity.

She dropped by on the planned night and we decided to do the interview at a local bar/restaurant. Probably my first mistake. As this was a highly emotional topic and incident, we likely had a couple beers along with our Quesadillas. I remember the food well.

Once the interview was complete we were prepared to walk the half mile or so home but somehow detoured into the bar area. Well, by chance the owners of the bar were all congregating, drinking, and generally having a good time. I felt absolutely out of place - frumpy Mom out with the hard drinking crowd. I remember my feelings well and one of the owners (who admitted to me he was an alcoholic) said something to the effect like "Did you and I ever do it" - because you see he wouldn't remember. I shook my head No, because I would remember and resumed sitting sat at the high table. I remember distinctly looking over toward the bar and watching my interviewee down a shot or two - complete with liquor dribbling down her chin. Yikes!

O.K. So after a while of feeling really out of place, I told her that I had to get back. She agreed and we walked home with some creepy guy? seemingly following us most of the way home. When we arrived, she asked if she could spend the night - which seemed like a sensible idea given all the drinking. After I agreed and she didn't follow me in, she explained - 'Not now, I am going back out again.' Mistake number 2 or 3 - I've lost count.

Later that night, much later, I heard a scratching sound as someone tried to find the key hole in the front door. I think I got up and let her in.

By that time, I hadn't slept at all with all the drinking and scratching and all.

And the noise downstairs continued. Thumping, bumping you name it. Finally I was furious and ready to kick her out and descended the stairs to hear what I thought was the tap running. As I rounded the corner into the dining room, there was the subject squatted down on our Oriental carpet peeing - a large volume I might add. After some yelling - telling her to leave and the requisite clean up, the subject retreated to the couch in a dazed humiliation and refused to leave.

I don't think she was there the next day when I woke up but I do remember some crumpled up carnations as some sort of token apology. They might have even been the white ones with the green edging - like you see around St. Patrick's Day.

There's been a lot of pee on our carpets since then - so it's all under the bridge by now.

Unrelated thoughts

• You know its cold outside when you don't take your hat off in the car.
  
  
• I guess Tiger took that slogan "Just Do IT" to heart.
  
  
• When I related to an old friend that my mother should stop driving, he said, "She wasn't that good a driver to begin with" and we laughed because it's true. But I never remember her getting in an accident. Because she grew up in Bermuda (without cars) she didn't learn to drive until she was something like 28 years old. If there was a highway - she wasn't driving on it. If there was a snowflake threatening to fall, she didn't drive that day. If there was snow on the streets, FORGETABOUTIT.
  

Signs

Oh I believe in signs and coincidences and synchronicity and all that stuff. In fact I told my mother when she dies I want a sign that life goes on. I am going to find a fabulous piece of amazonite on the beach. We've got it all planned.

In times of immense struggle I have found signs as well. An evil co-worker was out to sabotage my reputation and projects and created a project with the acronym DAN. I ultimately left the job because I felt life was too short and I wanted to do other things - like write. But a few years later we had a son and coincidentally? named him Daniel. Now I had forgotten all about the DAN project but I certainly wouldn't have had another child if I had continued working there. Coincidence?

Likewise, at that same job during a luncheon walk to get out of the stressful, troubled atmosphere I composed a song - that I believe(d) would prove to be a hit song. I have since recorded it and have sent it to a few places - so time will tell.

But there have been other signs - signs of god's love when I have been absolutely down and out. Long ago, I had a dream about standing behind a male assisting him as he urinated. Now my boyfriend at the time was very judgmental and I believe said something about penis envy. This boyfriend was something I prayed and prayed about - for it all to work out. Years and years later that vision came back to me as I helped one of my son's take aim at the toilet. In other words, the sign said to me I was meant to have these sons with this husband.

Speaking of peeing, next time I will have to regal you with a funny? story I was reminded of at a recent dinner party - and yes it involves someone peeing - on our rug.

Unrelated thoughts

-A boy on Matt's bus was making fun of him and calling him a homosexual. "That's terrible," I said with sympathy. I added, "Not that being a homosexual is terrible." In case you are worried, we have the whole situation worked out.

-I thought I had calmed myself down a notch with the full time job and the kids and all but my eye has been twitching the last couple of weeks - saying otherwise.

-Someone 'stole' my towel at the URI pool the other day. I finished my laps and it was gone. Doug and I both agreed we are not sure we would want to use someone else's towel - except each other's of course. The lifeguards offered to check in the men's locker room and told me I could come out and check with them after I got dressed -oblivious to the fact that I needed a god damned towel.

-How does Santa differ from Tiger? Santa stops after three Hos.
There was a v. funny sport's column listing all the slogans of the products Tiger endorses, with new takes on them. Gillette -'The best a man can be' - god I hope not. You get the idea. It was very creative. Personally, I find the whole affair(s) sickening - but Doug is enjoying the fact that people create false images of people (can you say pedestal?) when they really might be asses.
Why get married? And what can Tiger's mother be thinking? Doug insists she's known all along.

While you were gone

This note was left by the phone for me after Doug and I returned from an outing. The older boys were in charge of babysitting while we were out - though Michael was still asleep when we left, so Matt was really the primary babysitter.

What Matt did while you were gone

-Watch TV and eat multiple servings of breakfast
-Bully Daniel into playing Truth or Dare
-Put a frog in the microwave
-Watched a gory movie

This note was forged by Michael to replace the original note, which follows.

What Matt did while you were gone

-Spread leaves over garden
-Fed Daniel
-Unloaded dishwasher
-Loaded dishwasher
-Pretended to have an interest for Daniel's half hour story on ninjas; trust me IT WAS BORING
-Then watched Daniel's war movie to make him think we shared a common interest in war.

What Michael did sleep!!

This humorous competition had me laughing.

Unrelated thoughts

• Daniel was pretending he was his teacher at school the other day. He was telling his friend he would get a yellow slip for such and such an infraction when that friend (age 6) promptly stuck out his middle finger. Daniel told this story like he was horrified and he was v. confused when I started laughing.

• Don't ya just hate those women that don't eat? I remember commenting to a neighbor on her weight loss and then commenting on my own steady state. In regard to my steady state she asked 'What is the issue (for you) - snacking, portion control, more exercise?' YES ALL OF THOSE.

• My mother called me on my birthday but forgot to wish me happy birthday - instead she launched into some elixir I was to go buy at the health food store that would help my sore throat. Her last several calls have involved similar themes: 'Are you still using aluminum pots for cooking?', information about beef recalls, and fluoride concerns - 'Are the boys still using fluoride toothpaste? Well, I hope they are spitting it out.' You see, I have my very own health protection officer.

• I remember a joke that went bad - a close friend was turning 69 and I bought her a small bottle of Old Grand Dad with a note that said '69 and a little Old Grand Dad just seem to go together.' Needless to say, she didn't think it was as funny as I did and kind of gave me a confused glare when she read the card. Kudos to Doug for saying 'Are you sure you want to do that' before the gift giving.

• Daniel thought he had teeth in his poop the other day. I tried to get him to remember what we had for dinner the night before - corn.

• Speaking of poop - my mother seemed horrified at the reality of wiping my father's backside. He is getting v. feeble and immobile with Parkinson's . . . .