Mom-isms

"I'm not as old as I used to be."  This mom-ism was uttered a couple of weeks ago as we sat on the swing out back.  Mom was lamenting the fact that she is unable to do some of the things she used to do.  As I usually do at these moments, I gave her a minute to think about what she'd said.  Sure enough,  10 seconds later, she said, "That's not what I meant."  But the more I thought about it, the more I came to see how true it is.  She isn't as old as she was a few years ago, at least not physically, emotionally, or mentally.  Her steps are increasingly unsteady, her language becoming garbled, her hearing, never the best, is almost totally gone.  She is beginning to live in an imaginary world where "those guys out back" are still coming in at night to rearrange her belongings or steal from her.  She will latch on to an idea and be unable to let it go.  Yesterday, as I came in, she and brother Mike were sitting together, and suddenly she was convinced that Mike had just purchased her home.  Her eyes filled with tears and she simply could not believe that she had signed away her treasured house to him.  It took some time to mover her on from this one.  This tells us, though, that she is aware enough of her tenuous hold on life to know that there will be changes coming.  It's a scary thing for all of us.

This picture was taken on May 21st, when we celebrated all of our May birthdays.  Mom was 78 on May 22nd, brother Mike and niece Michala and sister-in-law Julie also had birthdays in May.  The weather cooperated enough so that we were able to burn stuff on brother Tom's grill, and here you see mom receiving some presents.  The wind chime and the flowering plant were from Michael.  She got a few other things from family too, and as I sat there and enjoyed my family, I thought to myself that I hadn't gotten her anything except washed and dressed that day.  But it was as much remembered by mom as any of her other presents, I'm betting.

As the days and months roll by, I know that we, mom's family, are approaching a hard decision.  I've made the decision that I won't be moving in to live with mom.  My own sanity has always been a bit tenuous, and I think trying to take on full-time care would tip me over the edge.  Just recognizing that and letting my family know is a huge weight off my shoulders.  At best, me and mom living together would be temporary, as she is too heavy for me to lift, and a fall is pretty likely to occur at some point.  While I can still convince her to wash up with a washcloth and change her clothes regularly, she is unable to lift her legs high enough to step into the bathtub anymore.  Mommo has a doctor's appointment tomorrow to follow up on her last one 6 months ago, and I'm sure Dr. Miller will see the marked changes since then. 

For now, I think this will do for a June post.  I will try to do better, but I think living so closely with this situation sometimes makes it hard to write about.  I'll leave you with this mom-ism though.  As we were taking our little walk (shuffle) the other day, I suggested that mom unbutton her sweater.  Her response?  "I just buttered it a minute ago!" 

Thanks for reading friends!