My Last Good-bye

The last post I did about my mom turned out to be the last post I did while she was living. She died later that day.  I barely got back to her room and she was gone within a couple of minutes.  I haven't cried.  Not about her dying anyway.  I haven't felt like crying. I haven't even felt sad. This sounds callous I'm sure but I felt more joy in her being able to go than sorrow for myself.

My husband thought my response was odd when people wanted to console me by saying, "It is hard to lose a parent no matter how old we are, because we can no longer call them up and talk to them".  I hadn't been able to have a real conversation with my mom for years before she died. I could no longer go to her for advice or help and in her last few months I felt like there were things I wanted advice about and couldn't ask for it.  After she died, I felt like I suddenly had the freedom to be able to speak with her.  I felt like she could hear my pondering directed toward her.  My husband asked me if Mom answered back when I talked to her. I had to smile at that. Did he think I was losing my mind?  Yes, she answers but not in words I hear with my ears.  It is more like a feeling or a thought that comes into my head.  I'm pretty sure she puts them there.  So I have felt closer to my mom since she died than I did for the years before she died. And she has been helping me through a situation that is difficult for me. I know she faced similar situations in her life and she came out of them very positively. I needed her experience to help me get through mine.

So as I said before I haven't cried in grief over my mom's passing but I did have one cry that was related to my mom.  I'll share what I wrote about what I experienced during a dance concert on campus.

"...the evening became quite profound to me during one song toward the end entitled Slumber.  I can't find the lyrics for this song to read them but I think it was simply a lullaby. The choreographer interpreted it to be about a girl dying.  Her family was grieving on this side of the veil and angels come and help the girl thru to the other side of the veil.  I think this was the first I've cried since Mom died.  John could feel it too.  I sat watching with tears streaming down my face.  I realized I wasn't crying because of sadness or feeling the loss of Mom. The dancers were depicting the people on the other side of the veil comforting the loved ones left behind, holding them up and giving strength and guidance.  I wondered how many times Mom already has and will still be sitting by our sides to give comfort or holding us up when we can't do it ourselves. It was very powerful...".

My life has changed a bit since Mom passed.  Obviously, I no longer go hang out at The Homestead four times a week though I have been there a couple of times since. I used to plan all my errands around my Homestead visits. Now my errands don't get run with any regularity because I no longer have scheduled visits.  And my dad moved back to Oregon. It has taken some adjustment to get used to him being gone.  At first I found myself thinking in terms of "oh Dad will enjoy this" or something like that, and then came the realization that he wasn't here to enjoy it.  I don't do it now as often as I did at first but it took some getting used to. Dad was never noisy, but the house seems quieter anyway.

I find little things remind me of my mom.  Often it is a visual like today when I saw a bottle of the hair goop I had bought for her, or an item I inherited from her. Today I read that my brother is putting in Lily of the Valley plants at his new house.  My mind went immediately to my mother even before he added that it would remind him of her.

Yesterday, I was running my hand through my hair when suddenly it felt like Mom's hair. My last experience with Mom was her hair.  I went with my sister, sister-in-law and aunt to dress Mom for burial.  This was not a task I enjoyed at all.  I didn't like touching her because she didn't feel like my mom.  Her skin was cold and didn't feel right and her face didn't look right to me.  As a matter of fact from the angle I first saw her, her mouth seemed to be in the scowl she would use when she was unhappy with the staff or with me after she came to The Homestead. It didn't look that way from other angles but that was my first impression when I saw her.  But the last thing I did, was to curl her hair.  I'd been doing Mom's hair for the past 4 3/4 years. It had been a comforting thing for me to do, a connection, a touch. When I curled Mom's hair in the funeral home, it felt like Mom's hair.  It felt normal, not odd or different. I was grateful to be able to do her hair as my last good bye to her.

A Mighty Change in Your Heart

In November 2010 I gave a talk in church that centered on implanting the gospel in our hearts. I used my mother's life as an example. After the talk, I wrote down much of what I said to send it to my son who was serving a mission. I'm taking from that letter to write this entry about my mother.

 

My mom was born into the Lutheran church in Sweden but raised in a non church going home. She learned about the bible stories in school. Religious studies is part of the curriculum in Sweden. Mom loved the stories and was fascinated by angels. It was her love of the Bible stories that prepared her to listen to the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She didn’t know it at the time but she was a golden investigator accepting everything the elders taught her. She knew it was a serious step to take so she went to talk the decision over with one of her school teachers (she was studying to be a teacher) and when the teacher informed her that if she joined the LDS church she wouldn’t be able to graduate since she would no longer be a member of the state church, she was devastated. It was then that she realized how much the gospel meant to her.  She waited the year she had until graduation and then was baptized.  When she was baptized she literally doubled the membership of the LDS church in her town.  The only other member was a 60 year old woman. Mom was almost 21 when she was baptized.

 Mom would wait until the Elders would come to visit their town and pay her tithing which is how my dad met her.  He figured anyone that was so stalwart as to pay tithing even without priesthood leadership there to check up on her deserved to be married in the temple and she had no prospects there so he proposed to her. (mission rules were a little different back then).  Dad tells the story quite clinically but it probably didn’t hurt that Mom was very beautiful and Dad looked like Clark Gable.  So Mom left her home and family thinking she would never see them again and came to America. A true pioneer.   

" And according to his faith there was a mighty change wrought in his heart. Behold I say unto you that this is all true. 

"And behold, he preached the word unto your fathers, and a mighty change was also wrought in their hearts, and they humbled themselves and put their trust in the true and living God. And behold, they were faithful until the end;therefore they were saved. 

"And now behold, I ask of you, my brethren of the church, have ye spiritually been born of God? Have ye received his image in your countenances? Have ye experienced this mighty change in your hearts? 

"And now behold, I say unto you, my brethren, if ye have experienced a change of heart, and if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now?"  

Alma 5: 12-14, 26"

My mom engraved the gospel in her heart and strived to live a consecrated life of labor.  She spent her life in service, laboring in the home and for the gospel.  She was Relief Society President three times among other callings, served three missions with my dad and then put herself on a family history mission full time.  She labored to research as many  Swedish names as possible since it was easier for her to read the information than anyone else.  Dad spent years putting those names in the computer.

Mom never sat around idle at home. She was always working. Now as her diseased brain takes away her abilities both mentally and physically the one thing I think she still holds on to is that love of the gospel. When we moved her here to an assisted living facility,  she thought she was still on a mission.  She would gather the residents around the table for prayer meeting before going to work at the "temple". She would go with another resident around to visit all the other women in the buildings with cookies to do their visiting teaching. She still wants to serve and to work even if her brain perverts what those things are. Fiddling with her blanket is now what her brain calls work. If you ask her what she is doing with the blanket she might say something like she is ironing or fixing it. She has sent me over to see if someone needs help or tells Dad she needs to go see who is in need. Or sometimes she will spend time coloring and if you ask her what she is doing she will say she is getting ready for class.   All these things are so ingrained in her being that it has been one of the last things to be taken from her.  I have written about a Mother’s day before where I witnessed her reverence for the sacrament. You can read about that here. 

The gospel must be as deeply engrained in each of us as it has been in my mother.  It must be engraved on our hearts just like it is in my mother’s.  Missionaries are headed out to share the gospel with others and give that gift that my mother has treasured her entire life.  She has kept in contact with at least one of those elders that taught her the gospel. We must have that mighty change in our hearts too and strive to live that consecrated life.

Patience is hard

Sometimes it is hard to be patient and wait for the Lord's due time.  Mom is 10 days without sustenance. But she just can't seem to go home.  We all want her to. We've told her it is okay for her to go. Each day I think she can't continue without food and water but she does. My sister and I both stayed all night last night instead of doing shifts.  We didn't think she'd make it through the night. But she did. I do not understand God's purpose for prolonging this.  We've watched the sequence of events for a lot of people dying here in the last 4 1/2 years. The people disappear from the dining table and are gone in just a few days. This has all blurred in my head so I can't remember when Mom stopped eating at the table. It has been at least 2 1/2 weeks and I'm thinking a good three weeks or more.

So why has she had to wait all this time? I do not know. Am I supposed to learn a specific lesson from this experience? Is it for my dad's experience? My siblings? I haven't figured this one out yet. Perhaps it is simply to teach me patience. 

I prayed for Mom to be able to go all day yesterday but the sun is coming up on yet another new day. We continue to give her morphine in the hopes of keeping her comfortable but she is breathing through her mouth so I know it is incredibly dry.  My sister tried to swab her mouth a bit ago and it didn't go well. I can't imagine this to be comfortable even with morphine. I tried to hold her hand yesterday but she indicated discomfort immediately so I let it go. Perhaps sensing our presence is enough. Perhaps morphine is enough. We don't have to hold hands.

So in our sleep deprived state we will continue with another day of watch care, of feeling useless, of praying for her release. And I hope today my prayer will be answered. I hope it will at last be the Lord's due time.

Watching Mom breathe

I am once more sitting with my mom and watching her breathe.  She was having such a hard time earlier that my sister and I thought this could be it but a change of position calmed her breathing right down.

I am surprised that mom is still with us.  She has had little to nothing to eat or drink in 8 days.  Her oxygen levels rose back into the 80's I think yesterday. Maybe the day before. It is hard to keep track as the days all seem to run together. Her heart rate is on a roller coaster ride I think.  That is probably related to how much morphine she gets.  She often has lengths of time where she sleeps peacefully so even though she can have morphine every two hours we usually don't disturb her while she is sleeping well.  But the cut back in drugs allows her heart rate to rise again.

We try to keep Mom comfortable as far as is possible. We find a position that allows her to sleep and we are so happy but she has to be rotated periodically and I'm always sorry when the next position is uncomfortable for her.  She starts doing crunches repeatedly.  I don't know how she has the energy to do them for hours on end since she isn't eating more that a few bites of yogurt each day.  She can't sit up as far as she used to but her head still leaves the pillow and if you place a hand on her torso you can feel all the muscles tighten.   We hope that when she gets her resurrected body, it will have abs of steel. 

Mom has lost a lot of weight and continues to urinate fluids from her body stores.  Her little intake of fluids can't begin to match the output.  So much of her water weight is gone that we noticed today how thin her ankles have become.  I've never seen Mom with anything but thick ankles, (a trait I was sorry to see passed on down the gene pool), but they are normal size ankles now. Her fingers are blue, and I can't decide if that is from lack of oxygen or just because all her veins are showing through the skin.

For a couple of days we were able to get yes and no answers from Mom to questions such as, "Are you too cold?" Today she is not engaging with us at all.  Not verbally and not with her eyes.  For a while she was turning her head when we spoke so we knew she was hearing us.  Today she shows no recognition at all.  She is however, talking to someone in Swedish.  Yesterday she mumbled words that we couldn't understand at all. Today her Swedish is quite clear.  She has been answering yes or no to unheard questions. I would love to know for sure who she is talking to. I presume it is her parents and sister, maybe grandparents but as yet, I've not had the privilege to see with whom she speaks.  Since she is speaking Swedish I presume it is someone from Sweden anyway.  It is amazing that this room could be full of spirits waiting for Mom's time to come.  We hope that somehow they are able to give aid and comfort where we don't know how.

I went through all our scrapbooks and started scanning every picture I could find with my mother in it. I found quite a lot of them from her girlhood to recent pictures.  It has been fun to look at them all. I have also posted a different picture every day as my profile picture on Facebook in honor of Mom. She is a beautiful woman.

My daughter and a niece have each written very loving blog posts about their grandmother.  You can read those here and here.

It is now tomorrow so here are a few of those pictures of Mom:

Ready to catch the train

Leaving Sweden for America

The bride

Mr and Mrs Keith Morgan

Mom holding me

Mom and me

My wedding reception

Grandma with baby B

Grandma with baby J

Grandma and Grandpa with baby H

Mom in Swedish costume

Mom and me

Always a wave from the porch as we drive off

One more Homestead Humor

In the building where my mom lives, most of the residents have memory loss but there are some that have good minds with non cooperative bodies.  Such was the case with one woman who was often dryly humorous. One of the aides told me that as this resident was bedridden and dying, she went in to give her morphine which was administered orally. After tasting the morphine the resident said, "Why did you just give me cat pee?!"  The aide laughed and replied, "When have you tasted cat pee to know what it tastes like?"  The resident came back with, "I just did!"

 http://c767204.r4.cf2.rackcdn.com/32ec6935-3e4d-4a38-b001-3da92b837e40.JPG

Conversation I overheard at The Homestead the other night.:

Aide: We are going to put you to bed now.
Resident: What?
Aide: We are going to put you to bed.
Resident: Okay but what do I do with my feet?

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGrNGBLNxnPoahfyMDz-_jxR9AS3EzZHb60hVLZ4Q54CSDZsv_Iivn-N6Pic7Rlv8uMNTQuP8B9LfmcDXnroS7GiHHEHkRydIXKxQ7VX3hxGmUAPUz-mpp8tEpKAi1S3a414F_-rcQvHw/s400/feet-stick-out-of-bed.jpg

I love you mom

I'm sitting in semi darkness in my mother's room at The Homestead.  I'll be staying a good part of the night with her. Her decline continues. She is now fully bedridden. First she was having such trouble sitting up in her wheel chair that Dad started feeding her in her room on a recliner.  She seemed to do better there as it was easier to stretch out her torso and allow the food to go down rather than coming back up which was fairly frequent.  It was a number of days before she threw up again. We were concerned about her getting bedsores so they alternated her sitting in the recliner and lying in her bed.  Next the hospice nurse decided it was too taxing for Mom to move back and forth so now she stays in bed full time and just gets rotated from side to side every couple of hours.  They change her in bed, dress her in bed, bathe her in bed.  Who knew you could wash someone's hair while they are in bed? Her breathing became so rapid and labored that the nurse started her on a low dose of morphine when her rate would get above 32 breaths a minute. Her kidneys have started to shut down.  We only offered soft food in small quantities.  Sometimes she ate and sometimes she preferred sleep. The throwing up started again though and we have realized that her stomach is shutting down.  Last night she kept down a couple bites of yogurt but this morning she threw up the 2 tablespoons of applesauce she ate. So now no food.  And no water.  She will just choke on that and it puts her at a greater risk to get pneumonia which would be an even worse way to die.  She is on morphine full time now and today the dosage was upped some too.  When she starts doing sit ups, we know she is no longer comfortable.  She breathes through her mouth so the hardest thing for me is not giving her water. I can just imagine how dry her mouth is and I want to cry for her.  We swab her mouth and she clamps onto the swab to suck every drop of moisture out of it. I wish I could do more.  I wish she could just go and put an end to all this. It is hard to watch her and feel helpless to make her feel better.  Today employees that won't be working again until next week came in to say good bye to her.  It was very touching to see how much they love her. One wasn't even working today. She said she just felt like she should come right now so she did.  Another came and whispered in her ear for a bit and then turned and left without saying a word as she fought back tears.  That made me weepy and I've been so since.  Angie who has been one of our most beloved aides has been crying with us and is ever so tender with Mom.  She told us that they have cut back her work hours. No more full time aides. I told her we are all worried about her with fewer work hours. She is a widow and sole supporter for her children. I told her I was afraid she would have to leave for another job with more hours. Her immediate response was, "Not while Inga is here."   She gave me her phone number and asked us to call if anything happens before she gets back to work next week And judging from the aides coming in to say goodbye, they seem to think that Mom won't be here past the weekend.

I find that once tender teary-ness has started it is difficult to control. Witnessing the tenderness of the employees here started it for me today. I had been okay this evening until Mom woke up and I could assist her by swabbing her mouth and helping the aide turn her.  Then as I looked into her clouded eyes I could no longer control my emotions.  I don't know how much Mom understands of what we say to her but I hope that deep down inside somewhere she felt me say I love her and I'll miss her. I wouldn't keep her here in mortality for anything and will rejoice in her being freed from the body that holds her spirit captive but it doesn't mean I won't miss her. I love you Mom.

Strange kind of Mother's day

I've been thinking how strange this Mother's day seems to me.  My mother is not doing well. I don't know how long she will last in her current state but it is apparent that we are nearing the end.  Before my Mother's illness I don't know when the last time was that I spent a Mother's day with my mother. We lived too far apart.  Now she has been here for 4 1/2 years so I've had Mother's day with her each of those years but mostly she hasn't really been my mom on those occasions. You can read about another Mother's day here where I felt my mom with me for real. So I'm facing another Mother's day and this time instead of just acknowledging her mental state declining I am watching her dramatic physical decline as well. I'm watching her body fail to function.  I'm praying that she can just go to sleep and not wake up rather than decline further. I'm praying for her to be able to die.

It is an odd thing to want your parent to die.

In some ways, I lost my mother a long time ago but not through death. I have wondered if when we get to the first Mother's day without my mom on this earth, will it feel like the first Mother's day without her? I remember after my mother's mother died, my mother sitting alone in the chapel on Mother's day crying quietly to herself.  Is that how I will feel? Or is it possible that I might actually feel closer to her when she has left her mortal body because then my real mother will be rid of the disease that took her personality and ability to act like a mother?

During the years my mother has been here, I have put up a very tall emotional wall.  It would have been too hard to feel the emotions that go with having a loved one deal with this disease. It would be too painful. So up went the wall.  I don't allow myself to cry. At least not very often. But in the last little while as it has become apparent that she is failing, a few tears have leaked through my wall. I still can't let the wall come down as there are too many things that have to be dealt with matter of factly, but there was a leak.

So this Mother's day I will celebrate with each of my children around me, but I'll be thinking about my own mother and trying to sort out the feelings I have about her leaving this world. I already know what it is like to not have my mother in mind and I know what it is like to be physically distant from her, but what will it be like to recognize that soon I will not be able to reach out and touch my mother? At least not until the next world.

So this Mother's day seems strange to me. This will be my last Mother's day with my mother. It is a good thing as she will be able to leave suffering behind but I'm conflicted in my feelings.

It is an odd thing to want your mother to die. 

Homestead Humor

My father overheard the following conversation between a mother and her visiting son. 

Mom: Where were you yesterday? The whole family got together and you weren't there.
Son: Really? Where did you go? What did you do?
Mom: We went hunting.
Son: Oh. What were you hunting?
Mom: Dinosaurs.
Son (laughing): Did you get anything?
Mom: Yes, we got a big one but I don't know what to do with all the meat. 

Real Conversation

My dad shared a sweet story with us.   He said about 3:00 Mom started talking.  Most of the time when this happens she cannot make herself understood. Either she can't finish the sentence or she uses gibberish.  Today however, she started with something that couldn't be understood and then said, "No. that isn't what I mean." And she started again.  This time she got it all out and Dad could answer her.  They had actual two way conversation.  The sweetest though was when Dad told her that he comes there everyday to help her however he can and she said, "And you'll never know how much I appreciate it."  Staff came in and she was able to converse with them as well while smiling and looking happy.  At some point Dad asked her if she knew who he was and she said yes.  He asked her if she could say his name.   She said, "You are the man that...." and then gibberish filled in.  So she couldn't say his name.  I don't know if that means she really didn't know or if she just couldn't get her brain to say it but her ability to fully communicate was gone again.  After a while she stopped talking and just stared at him.  When she does that I can't decide if she is just empty headed at the moment or if she knows she should know him but can't figure out how. Anyway, it was a sweet time for them to be able to have a real conversation.  On the rare occasions that something like this happens it is almost as if you get the real Inga back just for a little while.  And it is a moment to be savored.

Alzheimer's: Another funny from The Homestead

While at the Homestead today, Dad got a kick out of one resident who was headed back from the table to his room.  Another resident was on a rant, yelling and swearing at people.  The first resident stopped for a bit and listened and then when one of the staff came by he said, "If I ever get like that, just hit me in the head with a damn hammer." 

Singing at the Homestead

Almost every Sunday for the past 4 years we have gone to The Homestead to sing for the residents.  We joined another family that had been doing it for sometime while their mother/grandmother was there.  That family wonderfully still joins us even though their loved one passed on a long time ago.  The problem is, all our kids are growing up and leaving home so our numbers have dwindled dramatically.  At one point between friends and family we got maybe 15 or more of us singing.  Ahh, those were the days.   Now we are feeling lucky if we have four.  We have mostly sung hymns with an occasional folk song or something thrown in.  One resident early on always requested You Are My Sunshine so it has become our closing number every week even though that resident passed on quite a while ago too.  We find that almost all the residents perk up for that song.  They sing along and clap their hands in rhythm.  Sometimes most of the residents appear to be sleeping through our little performance but more often than not, they wake for Sunshine.  Sometimes they mouth the words in their sleep. Today John and I got there a little earlier so we were filling the time with whatever we could think of to sing. John was being quite silly and making up words to songs.  He also sang some British songs from his childhood.  Those usually baffle the residents but today's made them smile.   It is apparent that they really do like the folk songs.

One of the current residents has requested old songs we'd never heard of before so John got them off the Internet to learn them.  They like those too.  I smiled today as one man who hadn't been paying a lick of attention the whole time suddenly lit up and sang along with one of those old songs.

Today someone suggested She'll Be Comin' 'round the Mountain so we started in on that one.  That may have been our biggest hit yet.  One woman who is often unhappy and worried about many things stood up and started swishing her skirts and stepping back and forth like she was doing a square dance.  Another man started bouncing in his chair and moving his arms like he was leading the wagon.  Everyone sang along and enjoyed themselves.

It is nice to make lovely harmonies with the hymns and there are some residents who really do love those.  I noticed today that my mom was sleeping (or appeared to be) but was tapping her hand in rhythm to the hymn we were singing.  But as nice as that is, it was also great to sing songs where we couldn't really remember the verses quite right but everyone had a smile on their faces.  It is wonderful to see life in the resident's eyes. For just a little while they might forget their discomforts and frailties and just have joy.

Okay, more Homestead humor

In a comment for a previous humor post my brother made reference to Eva, a Homestead resident that he was quite attached to.  This story is how their love affair began.  It was Thanksgiving dinner and the aides working that day suggested the each of the residents share something they were grateful for. They went around the table each taking their turn to share and when it was Eva's turn she said, "Not a damn thing".  My brother knew right at that moment that he loved her.


My brother feels I didn't tell this story well so here is his addition: You missed the dramatic hand slap on the table at the same time Eva said, "NOT A DAMN THING!" She was quite emphatic about that. I miss Eva, it won't be the same without her there.

Eva was generally entertaining to me.  Most of the time she was very sweet tempered and  happy to see me and my family.  One day one of the aides was wheeling Eva to the dinner table but as she came up on us she asked the aide to stop because she wanted to talk to those two, pointing to my husband and me.  After a "how are you" type conversation she asked if our #3 child belonged to us and then she said to #3, while pointing to my 45 year old husband,  "I knew him when I was young".  Eva was 89.  

After she'd celebrated a birthday She told my brother not to call her 90 years old because she was only 70.  If she were 90, she'd be 6 feet under.  Nice to be able to take 20 years off just like that huh?  When my brother left that day  Eva motioned Dad to come over to her.  When he got there she asked if his son had gone home so Dad explained he had but would be back tomorrow. Eva said, "He is a nice boy.  I've known him since high school".  So if you take off the 20 years she said before, then she was only adding 20 or so years  to my brother.  Made me smile. 

Alzheimer's: One more funny from The Homestead

Here is one more funny event from The Homestead.  The food there is only as good as the staff on duty that meal.  Some of them are experienced cooks and some are not.  There is a young guy who is fairly new there that is apparently not very experienced.  Dad said that the other day everything he served for lunch was burnt.  I can't remember now what Dad said they were eating but everyone was having a hard time eating it. They couldn't even cut it up easily.  Dad reported the following conversation around the table.  Woman on Mom's right: "I can't eat this. "  Man on Mom's left: "I got it in my mouth but I can't chew it". 

Dad said that he heard the aide cooking that day confess to the head cook (who works in another building) that he had burned everything.  Hopefully he'll get some pointers from her because Dad said that everything the next meal was undercooked.  :)

Alzheimer's: To laugh or cry

Dealing with a loved one with Alzheimer's is a heartbreaking ordeal.  You see someone who was once vibrant slowly lose everything about them.  In the last four years of my mom living in a memory care unit of assisted living I have watched many more people than just my own mother deteriorate.  My mom has outlived everyone that lived there when she first moved in and many others that came after.  At first, the residents all seem to be just a little crazy and some of them are mean or rude.  Others are as sweet as can be.  But whatever the personality differences, we see so many of the same symptoms in each of them.  Alzheimer's patients don't like to shower and will fight to get out of it. They tend to worry about money which is often manifest in trying to pay for their meal as if at a restaurant.  They all want to go home even though they don't know where home is.  The mobile ones will walk around the building opening every door looking for a way out.  They all have to get home for something.  My mom needed to get home to take care of her children, another man needed to take care of his horses.  One lady today wanted to go out to see if her grandmother was still alive.

After spending some time with the residents, you get to know them and their quirks and you find that there are many that you love.  I loved Robert who at 94 was happy to dance with anyone who was willing.  His favorite song was You are My Sunshine and he always requested it when we came to sing on Sundays.  And I found his outbursts rather charming in their own way.  Out of the blue he would call out announcing the time of day, or what his bedtime was or my favorite, announcing that he had his false teeth in and then he would gnash his teeth together to show it.

Most of the residents have very endearing traits. But it can be hard to watch them struggle.  I've seen residents cry because they don't know where they are or because they can't go home.  I've seen some get very angry over different things which are often quite silly.  Some get depressed.  One day my mom wondered aloud how long she would have to go on living this way.  I think she was referring to her physical discomfort but I wondered if she had some awareness that day of her mental deficiencies as well.  All these things and many more are hard to watch.

So to cope with all this, I think you either have to laugh or cry.  Laughing is much more pleasant.  I've cried enough as well but I try to find the humor in the daily situations.  So I'll share with you several of my favorite funny moments in assisted living.

My mother doesn't enjoy mornings very much and was often difficult with the staff about getting out of bed. The aide came in to get mother up one morning and said, "Can you stand up for me? My mother replied, "I am standing up.  I'm just doing it lying down."

Some residents are always getting in to things or bothering other people.  The staff try to find things to do to keep them occupied.  There are a few women who are very happy to be given a doll at take care of.  The dolls are real babies to them.  One lady talks, coos, and tries to feel her baby all the time.  I rarely see her without her baby now.  I found it amusing when she proudly showed her baby to one of the staff and said, "Isn't she just a doll?!" The aide agreed with her, "Yes, she is a doll indeed."


And my last amusing moment to share was a conversation that I overheard between three residents.  One woman (#1) was confined to a chair.  One woman (#2) loved to flirt and and latched on to one of the male residents as her husband.  One must understand that she can talk well enough but she never makes any sense.  And I mean never.  Her brain just doesn't connect well enough to have a real conversation. 

Our man was walking past woman #1 presumably to go to his room.
#1: I want to get you a chair. 
Man: What?
#1: I want to get you a chair.
Man: Why?    (#2 joins them)
#1: Because you look tired.  
#2: What? Did you find the cat? 
Man: (with growing bewilderment) What?
#2: Did you find our cat this morning?
Man: What are we talking about?!!

Maybe it doesn't translate in writing but I found it hysterical.  Poor guy was so bewildered by both women. 

So to laugh or cry.  Mostly I choose to laugh.