Aggles and I decided to take Mom out of the memory unit and to a wonderful cabin on Harrison Bay for five nights.From: Aggles
Subject: Re: how are you?
Date: December 31, 2008 8:12:51 AM PST
To: Linda
I'm fine now. Sorta. Trying to change my focus and just remember the really good things about the trip. How are you? I hope you get a quiet moment to kiss off 2008 tonight. 2009 is going to be a much better year.
When I got this email from Aggles yesterday, I wrote her back and asked her to tell me the good things she remembered about our trip. At the same time, I thought I would list the good things that I remembered about our trip:
• One night after Mom was in bed, standing under the stars (very bright) with Aggles as she pointed out Orion to me. The Seven Sisters were up there, too.
• Christmas Day lunch of leftovers: Thelma Lou's broccoli casserole (Thermal Lou's to us), turkey sandwiches, potato chips, cranberry sauce, beer
• Su's visit Christmas night
• The big fireplace with an on/off switch that absolutely fascinated Mom
• The clerks at Bi-Lo the day after Christmas. (One carded me. I told her how pleased I was even though I knew she had to card everybody buying beer and we proceeded to have a lively exchange of carding stories). Another clerk came over to load my groceries and she expressed dismay at how busy it was. She said, "I thought everyone would be at all the good stores like Belk the day after Christmas." There were maybe six cars in parking lot and the store appeared empty to me.
• The extraordinary takeout bar-b-que sandwich from Kevin Brown's that came with the fat french fries from heaven.
• I want to take a nice portrait of Mom, Aggles, and me. We decide that the best place would be on the front porch, although it's a little chilly and the wind has picked up. We bundle Mom up and are waiting til the last minute to bring her outside. As I come in to get her, she says: "Wouldn't one of these poinsettias look lovely in in the photo?" We're delighted at her great art direction, and set a little table up for the flowers.
• Calling Clare, the owner of the cabin, and asking if we could pay a late fee the next day, as we could not fathom getting Mom up and dressed and the car packed by 10:00 a.m. Clare telling us to stay as long as we wanted–that in fact her husband had just suggested she call and tell us we could stay an extra day for free.
• The Holiday Inn Express that Aggles made me stay in, even though I would only be there for 6 hours. (I had planned to stay on Mom's couch and get up at 4:00 a.m. to go to the airport on my last day.) I was so happy to be in that little room that I walked back and forth for at least an hour touching things and moving things around and taking photos of the bed and things in the bathroom.
the harder things
• Mom telling me she was afraid she was getting a cold when I first arrived to help her pack for our stay at the cabin. Her being scared to go to the cabin: "We're not sure what it has in it! Does it even have heat?"
• Mom's anxiety in the car about getting lost on the way to the cabin. (She has every reason to be anxious with me driving–especially somewhere I've never been, as I have a worse sense of direction than she, and no TomTom.)
• Once inside the beautiful cabin, Mom's saying over and over that she doesn't deserve this–that she's not good enough.
• As Christmas Eve dinner was being served, sitting with Mom in the bathroom while she was ill.
• Tom drives down to spend Christmas Eve with us. Helping Mom get ready for bed that night: "That man out there–is he your husband?" "Yes, Mom! Who did you think he was?" "Well he doesn't seem like your husband!" Me (very curious): "What do you mean, Mom?" "Well ... I thought your husband was kind of a smart aleck. This man seems taller. And ... dignified." (Maybe the gray hair is a good thing.)
• The same evening: "Did I know you when you were in high school?" "Mom, you knew me long before I was in high school. You knew me from Day One. You're my mother!"
• Christmas Eve is my dad's birthday. In the bathroom with Mom that evening helping her get ready for bed: "I wish Kenneth could be here. I wonder why he died?"
• Every night after helping her get ready and get in bed, we would go over again where everyone was sleeping in the cabin. "Where are you sleeping?" she'd ask. "Right down the hall," I'd reply. "That way?" she would point. "Yes." "That's up the hall, to me." "Oh, OK then. I'm sleeping up the hall." "And where is Margaret sleeping?" "Right across the hall from you." "And ... isn't there another person?" "No, there's just the three of us." "Who's sleeping up there?" She would point to the ceiling. "No one! There's not a room up there." "There's not a room above me? Where is Clare sleeping?" "She has another house on Signal Mountain where she lives."
• The mornings. We would come in to get Mom up, and she would say: "I don't want to get up. I want to die." "Well that's tough, Mom. You're getting up! It's not easy for any of us to get up in the mornings." "But Honey, I'm not good for anything." "That's crazy, Mom. Please don't say that. It makes me feel terrible."
• Mom's asking "What am I supposed to be doing now?" was probably the hardest thing.
• Kind of funny: Her "Are we eating again? Why are we eating again? It seems like all we do is eat!"
•••••••••••••
Last night I was walking on the beach and my phone rang. "Hello, Hon! I wanted to be the first to wish you a Happy New Year!" It was Mom.
Will somebody please explain this woman to me?!
