Raised on a farm and now in her element.
It's Tuesday, and it's a good day. Actually it just doesn't feel all that bad right now. She repeated back to me what I have been saying for a while now:
So, I'm not going back home. I can stay here or a nursing home back home.
It's not a permanent statement. She does return to the I'm going home statement but I am growing stronger in return, and whatever vulnerability she spied within or upon me months ago (weeks ago) isn't here today. I can see it in her face as she looks at me. She's in there reading me, studying me, and giving in -- for now.
Last week it all began when I learned that for this week two days of Bridge are cancelled because the place is closed.
What to do? What to do? Ugh!!!
I looked into boat rides around the island but the affordable ones were 30 to 90 minutes long, and that's it!!! But of course there are bridge repairs today also so the three hour cruise (Wait, is that a Gilligan's Island lyric? Yikes) is not going around the island.
But then a thought hit me, flowers. So today, Tuesday, I sent her to the Bronx Botanical Gardens. She was in heaven. She loves flowers like a fish loves whatever the hell a fish loves.
I felt like I had done something right especially after watching her sleep all weekend. Was that sleep depression after somewhat realizing she can't go back to life as she knew it, or a deeper depression realizing she likes this arrangement, or a product of the disease, dementia.
Sometimes when she throws one of her tantrums, stomping and demanding to go home, I get an odd feeling telling me she doesn't really want to go back and be on her own. I feel like there is a tiny space deep down inside her that wants things just the way they are. It's just a feeling....or maybe a projection. I mean, she hasn't actually packed her luggage or anything, or even organized her things like she was packing them up.
Sometimes I look at her and I feel so sorry for her. Her brain and body have robbed her of her independence, and robbed her of an ability to reason and to make inferences of the information around her. It sometimes makes her behave poorly causing friction among those present. Sometimes some people absolutely dislike her because of her behavior, and sadly it's easy to see why.
I tell people it is as though the worst of her character survived.
Oh damnit, Wednesday, why'd you have to throw a monkey wrench on my day off? Damn
Today, Wednesday, I sent her to another cancelled game; cancelled for the summer. Ugh!!! I learned today just now as she sits up there with her caretaker. And now her caretaker has to be with her little sourpuss self trying to find ways to lift her out of her grumpy mood, a mood that often gives way to one of those funky tantrums.
Thank you, Jesus, for this woman right here, her caretaker. Wow, He guided her into our lives, or us right to her. Reaching out to one woman, when the time came to find a new caretaker, the lady I reached out to recommended the amazing woman with us today. I knew she was for us the moment I spoke with her.
*Sigh* back to my momma and this day with the monkey-wrench thrown in our plans...
I almost forked out stupid bucks for my mom and her caretaker to catch an overpriced-masquerading-as-discount Broadway matinee but thankfully the god of b*tch-why-in-the-world slapped me out of it. Guess my mom will just have to try out Bingo today.
So, they simply ate lunch at the community center then came back home and the three of us watched a movie together.
A whole day off from work, a whole day to the apartment all by myself, my mom off to play bridge, and then a monkey-wrench. I had considered sending her to the other Botanical Gardens today, but thunderstorms were forecasted for today. Ah, oh well, at least it was kind of nice being home for two and a half hours by myself, and watching a movie with the two of them wasn't all that bad.
My year of hate
I can't believe how angry I am so much of the time
But what I hate is..."