I was standing in the shower thinking about yesterday's entry this
morning and realized I wanted to add something to it.
Ned has said in the past that I spend a lot of time talking about
getting old. And I do. Because I am. And so is he (and maybe he doesn't
think it's quite so odd to dwell on it now that he's older!). But the reason I do is
that I am finding the aging process fascinating. I have read in many places that
most of us, when asked how we feel, choose somewhere in our middle 30s as how we feel,
mentally. We don't feel our brain getting older and when it does, like with my
mother, we aren't aware of it.
But you can't ignore those aging symptoms in the body and how it
betrays the mental age where we feel we sit. And, as I am fascinated by what goes on
in the brain that brings on dementia and imagining what sorts of changes have happened to
my mother that she is not aware of, or what is going on inside the head of someone
incapacitated by a stroke--and are they aware of what is going on -- I am also fascinated
by when these little changes in our bodies take place. When did it become so
impossible to reach something on an upper shelf that I now use a pair of tongs to help me?
When did climbing stairs become so painful (one of these days I'm going to pull the
bannister off the wall trying to drag myself upstairs here in our house!). I just
find the whole process fascinating on a mental level and frustrating as hell on a physical
one. So I did the "baseline" entry so I could see, in a year, if I have
deteriorated any more or if I'm holding steady at that point.
But let's talk about Easter. Easter has been one of those
holiday/holydays that has assumed less and less importance in our family over the years.
It was, I think, an Easter Sunday when we had to practically stand in the parking
lot (where we could neither see nor hear) because there was no room inside the church that
I decided to stop attending Mass. After that, for me, it became the secular holiday of
Spring and bunnies and eggs, though Walt, the good Catholic, continues to go to Mass
and of course goes to Mass on Easter. (It's a shame we will spend our eternities in
different areas of the afterlife. He'll have the air conditioning),
For me, it was about the dinner. First I cooked a family dinner
for many years, then Walt's sister-in-law took over hosting the Easter dinners and we
joined with Norm and Olivia at their house, with a lot of her family. She set a beautiful
table and it was always a gala affair, often with music from her talented family, which I
loved. Then when my mother started feeling uncomfortable around large groups of strangers,
we split up. Walt would go to his brother's house and my mother and I would go out
to dinner. The kids joined whichever group they felt closer to at any year, if they
were able to join us at all.
When my mother stopped liking to go out for dinner, I would bring
dinner to her house and cook there. Ned and Marta sometimes joined us, but it was
too far for Jeri or Tom. Now Walt's sister-in-law is taking an Easter cooking
holiday, so for holidays, we go to the brunch at Atria, which was my plan for today, but
when I went to make a reservation for brunch, I found they were full and I could not, so
another plan had to be worked out quickly.
I decided that I would bring her here and would rent Philomena,
which we still have not seen, and then I would cook an Easter dinner. That way we
could have lamb and not pay an exorbitant price for it (amazingly, I was able to get a
small roast which is, while expensive, affordable). And of course I bought ice cream
cones for dessert, since she has to have her ice cream after each meal.
I had a good time shopping for dinner and even found a dozen roses
for under $10. Unheard of! I decided to use my godmother's blue glass plates,
which I love and which I claimed when we moved my mother up to Atria. This was going
to be the first "company dinner" that I have hosted in many years, even though
there would only be the three of us. "All that crap" still surrounded the
dining area, but the table looked lovely.
In the early afternoon, Walt went out and got flowers to take to the
cemetery (for Paul's 15th anniversary) and then we picked up my mother, who was astonished
to learn we were going to have Easter dinner. If only I'd told her she
would have dressed up. Guess the note on her calendar and the two phone calls
weren't enough! When I picked her up, she said she was feeling disoriented today, as if
she sometimes wasn't sure where she was.
We went to the cemetery, which, for a cemetery, looked beautiful
today. I was going to take a picture, and forgot. I got the flowers arranged in the
vase at the grave site and we drove home by the "scenic route" (where I knew we
would see lots of flowers, which she loved).
When we got here, we settled in to watch the movie, and the new smart
TV froze. I about cried, but I kept punching buttons, while my mother helpfully kept
repeating that she was glad her TV wasn't so complicated. I finally unfroze
it, but while I know what I did, I don't know what froze it in the first place.
Halfway through the movie, Peach called to wish us a happy Easter and
my mother was very happy to talk with her. I meant to suggest she call, and am glad
she thought of it by herself. I had earlier showed my mother a picture of Bob that
Peach posted on Facebook, which shows him looking like the Bob we all remember and I
thought that would make her happy. She said he looked familiar, but she couldn't
place who he was.
I made a stupid mistake ordering Philomena. Given the
option of $5 for the movie in HD and $4 for it NOT in HD, I went with the cheaper option
which gave us, not surprisingly, a vastly inferior picture. I really don't know if
my mother "got" it or not because later at dinner when I mentioned the movie,
she said "oh? Did you watch a movie?" I said that it was the movie, with
Judi Dench (her favorite actress) that we had just seen, first she had this look like she
didn't have a clue who Judi Dench was and then said that she was glad I had the chance to
watch it. But owell. It passed the time.
When the movie was over, I went in and made some hors d'oeuvres, Walt
fixed a vodka and tonic for us (which she used to have every night before moving to Atria,
and just after moving to Atria). I used the godmother's beautiful blue glass
glasses, which I've always loved. When I handed my mother her drink, she said, in a
puzzled tone, "those glasses look familiar." She took a sip of her drink
and had one of the hors d'oeuvres (leaving 11 for Walt and me) and there didn't seem to be
anything to talk about, because I had to be in the kitchen and Walt is not a
conversationalist.
I remembered that I had a box of things from her school years that
she said awhile ago she wished I'd bring to her apartment so she could go through it, so I
brought the box in. She found an autograph book from 8th grade and read through
every page of it, though showed no interest in the rest of the box (which contained her
high school Varsity letters, among other things).
Dinner was served and I very smartly let everyone dish up their own
plates. As I knew she would, she had one small slice of lamb, a small spoonful of
potatoes, a small spoon of green beans, and a little bit of salad. But she ate it
all, which was nice, and she didn't complain about the amount of food.
I had bought
ice cream cones for dessert, which we laughed about, since that is her standard dessert
order at Atria.
Once dessert was finished, I could see she really wanted to get home,
so I took her home, and she apologized profusely that I had to drive "all that
way" to take her home (all 0.8 mile of it!).
I had the feeling that she really would have preferred to have eaten
at Atria and that this was not the treat I had hoped it would be for her, but that does
take the pressure off me in the future. I won't go out of my way to try to find things
outside of Atria to do with her, since she seems more comfortable just staying in her own
little world.
She did say she wants a big party when she reaches hunnert, though.
No comments:
Post a Comment