Flying By the Seat of My Pants - an Interview About the Sandwich Generation

This morning I was interviewed by Heather Mundell, a life coach who hosts Mom In the Balance, a website for mothers who find themselves part of the Sandwich Generation. The interview was delightful... Heather made me feel very comfortable, and I found myself feeling like I was simply having a conversation with a fellow member of this group. I will post a link to the interview when I receive it. Meanwhile, be sure to check out Heather's website. She may just offer a service you are needing. I am flattered to think that Heather considers me something of an "expert" in any way/shape/form on the Sandwich Generation... most days I pretty much fly by the seat of my pants!

Friday, we kept Timothy for a few hours while his mom took care of some personal business. He was as fun as ever, and we enjoyed him immensely. He was with us about four hours... which was a good length of time for an impromptu visit! We are always glad to keep him; however, I think at this stage in his life, a stay of more than a couple of days and nights is a little much for him. He really missed his family during the week he spent with us when his sister, Zola, was born... and I think it was confusing for him. We are fairly sure he thought he was returning for another lengthy stay on Friday, and he cried and didn't want to leave. I am sure he got over it quickly, but when a baby is clinging to your neck and crying to stay, it's hard to put them in the car!

My niece and my sister took the children to see Mam-ma last week... her first introduction to Zola, her second great-great-grandchild. She really enjoyed getting to see them, and as I visited with her yesterday, she told me about how she held the tiny baby and marveled at her small size and delicate features.

When I arrived at the ALF yesterday, Mam-ma said rather gruffly, "Well! I thought y'all had forgotten me!" I asked why she thought that, and she said, "Well, I hadn't heard from anybody!" I told her that I had tried to call her several times over the last few days, and I never could catch her in her apartment. I added with a laugh... "You're apparently too busy to talk to us on the phone!" Then I reminded her that my sister and niece had visited and brought the children... and I knew that she had spoken by phone with my mother. It was just one in a handful of minor complaints she voiced.

I think the main problem this week is the heat. We are having brutal heat in Arkansas... hotter than normal for June - actual temps as high as 100-105.  When you add humidity, you have a recipe for some serious heat troubles.  Mam-ma was complaining that she could not sit out on the porch. There was a breeze, she said, but the air was so humid and thick that she could not get her breath.  And I know this keeps her from walking outside around the facility like she enjoys.  So when my grandmother cannot get outside for awhile each day, things are not right in her world.

I asked Mam-ma if she would be having tea time last night... she supposed they would.  "But it's not been very good the last couple of nights."  I asked why, and she said, "Well, one night Molly (a younger woman from her church) brought milk shakes for everyone."  "Oh, that sounds nice," I said.  She replied with a harrumph... "Well, I couldn't drink it all."  I commiserated that perhaps a milk shake after dinner was a little much, but I also pointed out that she didn't have to drink all of it - and I am sure Molly didn't care.  "So, if Molly brought enough for everyone... what was the problem?"  "Well, I just couldn't drink it all!" she said.  I surmised that there were probably some ladies who could drink all of it, and she confirmed that yes, there were. 

One of my grandmother's chief "complaints" about the ALF is that "there is too much food, and I can't eat it all."  I do not consider this a problem.  There is no way that the facility can personally tailor every plate to the appetite (at that moment) of each resident.

Heather asked me what I have learned from my years as a member of the Sandwich Generation... what advice would I offer?  Here's what I told her:

1. Remember that your loved ones are still real people, no matter how crazy or irrational they may become... or how ridiculous their comments may seem.  They still deserve dignity... and toward that end, we must allow them to vent and express themselves and filter the comments and behaviors accordingly.
2. Remind yourself, "It's not about me.  It's not my fault.  I am not responsible for this."  Do not own your loved one's frustrations.  Understand them, commiserate as much as possible, and do what must be done to cope, but do not take that upon yourself.  Remind yourself that your loved one is frustrated, scared - and perhaps not thinking clearly - and this is the only way they know to express this... then leave as much as you can at the door.
3. Do not forget to take care of yourself and your own family.  If you have a spouse, be sure to make time for him/her that does not include conversation and activity with the children and/or elderly loved one.  It is truly about balance, as Heather's website suggests... and do not get so caught up in your loved one's life and concerns that you neglect your children... or vice versa.  Above all, take some time for yourself... recognizing that unless you do, you will be of no use to anyone else.  Do not beat yourself up for time spent on a workout... the afternoon you take to scrapbook or shop for a new dress... or the 30 minutes you spend soaking in the tub! 
   
   Don't feel guilty for screening calls and returning them later... or telling your loved one, "I cannot do that today."  Remember... you are only one person, and while the world will not fall apart if you are not there to do everything, it won't function as well without you. So make sure you do all you can to be as well as you can - mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually!
4. Although I didn't mention this directly in the interview, don't hesitate to get help and support, if you need it.  Read blogs like this one - and websites like Heather's.  Spend a few $$ and get books that will help you - or hire Heather to help you balance your life!  The one component that has been in large measure missing for me in this journey has been support from others with "hands-on" experience.   I have friends to whom I can vent, and an incredibly supporting and loving husband... but there have been times when I really wished I had some sort of "Hotline" to call to say, "HELP!  What do I do now?" 
   
   This was in large part why I started this blog, and I do hope that you feel you can contact me and ask this very question.  I may not have the answer you need, but I will do all I can to help you find it.  And so will people like Heather! 

The Sandwich Generation is definitely a lesson in balance.  Some days are better than others, but if we all stick together, we can stay as close to the center as possible!

The Sandwich Adds a Layer

Our "sandwich" added a new layer last week.  One week ago today, Zola Claudette - Timothy's baby sister - was born.  She weighed in at 5 lbs, 15 oz. - 19 inches long.  She is the tiniest thing I have ever seen!

Zola was born on a Tuesday afternoon.  My husband and I picked up Timothy the night before, and he stayed with us for a week.  His PawPaw picked him up yesterday morning.  I was sad, but also very tired and ready for sleep and a chance to regroup.  I have no doubt he will return soon, as his family will need a break.

I am so thankful for my husband.  I truly do not know how single mothers do it.  I got pretty good this last week at sneaking in a shower and other tasks, but there were times when it was great to know that someone else was "in charge" while I stole away to the water closet for a few minutes uninterrupted!  I learned quickly that some "play time" in the bath tub in the morning could buy me enough time to dress and "put on my face," wipe down the bathroom, and maybe answer an e-mail or two on my laptop.  Night-time baths included time to play while I did my Bible study and answered more e-mail.

One morning, while my husband and Timmy ate breakfast, I slipped away and showered.  When I returned to the table, my husband said, "I'll watch him while you shower."  He was astounded that I already had managed to accomplish this.

Timmy is not always a good napper or night-time sleeper.  He sometimes has night terrors, and we count ourselves lucky that he has begun to sleep through the night - although that is relative, since "through the night" means about 6 or seven hours.  So if he goes to bed at 9:30 p.m., he is awake by 5:30 or 6:00 a.m. at best.  Yesterday morning, he was awake at 4:15 a.m.  We watched "Jack's Big Music Show" in bed for an hour, then we went outside to play with his tricycle and blowing bubbles.  However, he was not in a good mood... and not wanting to wake the neighbors - or my husband still sleeping in side -  I decided we should "get outta Dodge."  So we loaded into the car and went to Wal-Mart to shop for groceries.

I was barely dressed... Timmy was in his pj's and sandals... and I didn't care.  I slapped on a little powder from the compact in my purse, added some lipstick... ran the comb through my hair, and we headed to the store.  Timmy slept on the drive there and back and was a perfect angel while we were in the store.  I unloaded the car at home while he continued to doze in his car seat.  We were back inside by 7:30, with the groceries unpacked and breakfast underway.

Thankfully, my grandmother is doing so well at her new apartment in the Assisted Living Facility (ALF), so I was not having to worry about her well-being and safety this past week.  Timmy and I visited her twice, and both times, she was doing incredibly well.  She pushed Timmy around the facility on her walker (which has a bench seat), and we printed pictures of her new great-great-granddaughter for her to share with her friends.  One nurse said she had shown them to everyone.  I am hoping that she will get to meet Zola in person soon.

As luck would have it, I had scheduled an appointment at the hairdresser for the day after Zola arrived.  Since those appointments are like gold and hard to secure, I asked my mom to watch Timmy while I got my hair cut and colored.  She gladly obliged.  That morning, my husband and I drove Timmy to the hospital in a city 30 miles away, so that he could meet his baby sister.  Then we returned in time for me to take Timmy to my mom's before my appointment.  Luckily she only lives a block from the hairdresser's salon.

The next day, Mam-ma had a six-month checkup scheduled with her cardiologist.  The visit was to happen at our local hospital, which is about 5 minutes from our house.  Again, there was no way to change the appointment.  But this time, my mom was not available to help.  My husband rearranged his schedule to watch Timmy, and the appointment didn't take that long - and we were able to mark that off our list!

My grandmother was "dressed to the nines" and looked like a million bucks when I picked her up for her 10:00 a.m. appointment.  This was her first visit with a new cardiologist - an associate of her previous doctor who actually sees patients at our local hospital's outpatient clinic, which saved us the 30-mile trip (one way) to see the original doctor.  None of this new guy's staff could believe that Mam-ma was 98.  She looked so good... was spry and able-bodied, and she hopped up on the scales to be weighed - she'd lost a pound and a half.

Why is it that doctors feel they simply must find a problem?  My grandmother is doing fantastically well.  Her left ankle was slightly swollen.  The doc noticed it and made mention - which opened up Pandora's box with Mam-ma.  I tried to discount the swelling - it wasn't as bad as she has many other days, and I surmised she had probably eaten something salty.  The doctor launched into a campaign for Mam-ma to go on a low sodium diet and be more active.  Goodness, if she were any more active, we'd have to take extra vitamins to keep up with her!

Mam-ma told the doctor her food was "terrible" - no seasoning.  For the record, my grandmother salts her food before she ever tastes it.  Anyway, the doctor finally asked, "Do you see your family physician regularly?"  "No," Mam-ma replied.  I explained that we do not see him unless she needs to... and she is remarkably well.  BUT... the staff at the ALF is in contact with him, and he was consulted when she got the stomach flu recently.  I also pointed out that, while most residents were in bed at least 4 days to a week with the bug, Mam-ma was back eating in the dining room within 2 days... a testament to how well she is doing these days.

The doctor asked if Mam-ma's kidney function had been checked recently.  "No," she told him.  "Yes," I countered.. "you had a complete physical in January to prepare to enter the ALF."  Oh... she forgot.  The doctor said, "Well, Mrs. Chandler, since you are doing so well and seeing your doctor here regularly, let's just see you again in six months and not change anything now."  He hinted at upping her Lasix for the ankle swelling, and I told him that this is how we get into trouble - when doctors start tinkering with her meds.  That's how she ended up depleting her potassium, falling, and staying 3 months in the nursing home a few years ago.

The doctor asked, "Do they check your blood pressure regularly at the ALF?"  "No," Mam-ma told him.  "Yes," I countered... "they do... at least once a week."  The doctor said, "Okay, so since they are keeping close tabs on you there, let's just see you in a year."  Mam-ma slumped her shoulders, looked forlorn, and said, "Well, don't put me off like that."  He laughed and said, "Okay... come back in six months.  I just don't want you to spend all of your time going to doctors."  She looked at him and wagged her finger and said, "I don't go to doctors unless I have to!"  I just didn't comment.

While we were waiting, we visited with friends of my grandmother... the parents of a schoolmate of mine.  Both are in their eighties and are declining in health.  On the way back to the ALF, I told my grandmother that my friend is really struggling with the care of her parents.  Her father is very ill, and her mother is lashing out and not always cooperating.  Mam-ma never missed a beat... she said, "Well, Leon is just like me.  All his life, he's just done whatever people told him to do and not complained.  He's just gone right along with it."  I had nothing... given Mam-ma's history, what do you say to that?!

I told my husband that I am so grateful that Mam-ma is settled and safe.  If this had happened even six months ago, I don't know what might have transpired.  I know that Mam-ma is less self-absorbed now... and less demanding.  She is busy, involved and active... and thinking of others.  And she has been a great sounding board for me in recent weeks as I've experienced some personal frustrations.

Meanwhile, my"birthday buddy" - a dear lady who shares my birthday and will be 93 in a few weeks - has moved to the ALF.  Physically, she is not doing as well as my grandmother, but Mam-ma is doing all she can to encourage her and to comfort her daughters, who are struggling with her decision to make this move.
 

So this has been a week of blessings and new experiences... and lessons learned.  I've learned that I can still multi-task... and I am glad I've been working out for the last few months!  Timothy is a tall 34.5" two-year-old who weighs 29 lbs. - and my back would be screaming if I had not done strengthening exercises in the last few months.

I've learned that I can survive a trip to the store with a kid in his pj's and myself in some semblance of disarray - and that it's okay if the house is a wreck and the dishes don't get done but once a day.  I've learned that it's okay for a 2-year-old and his great-great-grandmother to share a Three Musketeers and get melted chocolate all over both of them... and old people need to see babies more often.  Timmy is always a hit at the ALF... and Mam-ma loves to show off how handsome he is!

I've also learned how precious a good night's rest can be.  I've slept and napped and rested most of the last 24 hours since Timmy went home... because I know that Mam-ma will be calling - and Timothy will be back... and I need to be fresh and ready for both!

Sometimes Being the "Mom" Is Harder than Others

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Our Timothy turned two yesterday.  It rained on his first birthday, and his birthday party in the local park was cancelled.  I vowed he would have a party this year, so my husband and I planned a simple dinner at our house for 5:30 p.m. - sandwiches, potato salad and baked beans - followed by cake and ice cream at 6:30.  We invited the immediate family for dinner... and additional family members and friends for the cake and ice cream portion of the party. 

 Timmy's grandpa wanted to make the cake.  He always made my niece's birthday cakes, and it was a big deal to him.  I had found a template on the NickJr. website for a "Jack" cake (from "Jack's Big Music Show - Timothy's ultimate favorite show!), and I printed it off for my brother-in-law.  He did an outstanding job on the cake.. and Timmy would point at it and say, "Jack!"

We kept Timothy all day on Wednesday while his mom and grandparents drove to a nearby city for his mother's OB/GYN check-up.  My niece is expecting another baby any day now, so she is making weekly visits to her doctor.  My husband had errands to run in town Wednesday morning, and he included a stop at Southridge on his route... to visit Mam-ma Polly and refill her bird feeder.  He found her upbeat and doing well.

Wednesday evening, Timothy fell asleep in my arms as we sat on the couch.  The phone rang, and my husband answered... it was Mam-ma... was he feeling alright?  He assured her that he was fine, and she reported that some 30 people at the retirement center were sick with a stomach bug.  So far, she was okay, but she was worried she had exposed Greg to the virus.  He told her to stay in and stay well, and she said she was trying.

I spent my spare time throughout the week getting things ready for the party and trying to keep on top of things, in case the baby came early and Timothy arrived to stay with us indefinitely.  Friday, I made final preparations for the party, while Greg worked outside, cleaning off the porches and driveways, etc.  He was supposed to go pick up Mam-ma for the party a little after 5:00 p.m.  I spoke to her in the morning and reminded her to tell the kitchen staff she would not be there for dinner - and to remember to sign out before she left.  She said she would ... and of course, she was thrilled that Greg was coming to get her.

Around 3:30 p.m., Mam-ma called and said she was not coming.  She said she had eaten a piece of cake for lunch that did not agree with her and she didn't feel well enough to come.  I told her if she was not feeling well, that was wise - we would miss her - but she had to take care of herself.

A little before 4:30 p.m., I called Mam-ma back and suggested she tell her nurse that she was not feeling well.  She said, "I already did."  I asked what the nurse had said, and she replied, "She told me not to take Immodium until I have diarrhea."  I asked if she felt like that was going to happen, and she said she did.  Then she said, "I have not felt well all day.  I'm cold, and I have a headache... and I actually feel sicker now than I did."  The next thing I heard  was her turning away from the phone and spitting into a trash can.  Then I heard her vomiting.  She returned to the phone and said, "I just got sick."  She vomited again.  I told her to punch the button and call for a nurse.  She began to cry.  I felt so badly for her.  I told her again, "Punch your button and call for a nurse."  She said she would, and I told her I was going to hang up so she could lie down.

I waited about 20 minutes - thinking I should give the nurse time to actually see about Mam-ma, even though her office is just a few feet from Mam-ma's door - and I called the nurse.  She told me Mam-ma was sick, and I told her, "Yes, I know - I was on the phone with her when she threw up."  The nurse said that there was an "epidemic" of this "bug" at the retirement center, and she had phoned Mam-ma's doctor to order some nausea medication and something for diarrhea, because "most everyone gets that after the nausea."  The nurse - Peggy - said she was waiting on the doctor to return her call, so we hung up, and I told her I would check in later.

By 5:30, Timothy and his family were here, along with my mom and her husband, and Timothy's other great-grandmother.  We had dinner, and by 6:30, more friends had arrived.  Timothy opened his gifts, and then we served cake and ice cream.

I slipped away to call the retirement center a little after 7:00 p.m., and a CNA answered.  The nurse had left for the night, and she said she had not checked on my grandmother.  She did not know if medication had been ordered - she said nothing was mentioned at "shift change."  I was a little frustrated, but she told me that the orders were to check on my grandmother every two hours, and she assured me she would be checking in on her.  I returned to my guests.  Talk about feeling torn!  I was concerned that Mam-ma got sick quickly - and she has done this before - and I felt like every two hour to check on her was not often.  Yet it was more than she would have gotten at home... and I was so glad she had nurses and aides there to see after her and help her.  I also knew she had her "button" and could call for help at any time.

The last guest left around 8:00.  Timmy was delighted with his party and all of the attention.  When everyone had gone and we were somewhat settled, I tried to call Mam-ma to check on her. No answer.  I tried three times, thinking maybe she was in the bathroom or just could not reach the phone in time.  But still no answer.  By this time, it was nearly 9:00 p.m.  I called the aide again and asked her to check on Mam-ma.  She did... and when she returned to the phone, she said, "She was asleep and didn't hear the phone."  Mam-ma called me shortly thereafter and she said she was still very sick but had not thrown up again.  I asked if she had had anything to drink.  She said she had not.  I told her to ask the aides to fix her a Coke.  She said she would, but I had told her to do this earlier in the evening, and she said she forgot.

Luckily, the aide called me again, and I explained that Mam-ma dehydrates quickly.  She said, "Oh, we are keeping ice water in the rooms of all the residents who have this."  I told her Mam-ma won't drink ICE water on a day when she feels well... but she will drink an icy Coke.  The aide said she would fix one for her.  I explained how Mam-ma dehydrated in a matter of hours a few years ago and ended up in the hospital for a week and the nursing home for three months.  "It's very important that she keep drinking fluids," I added.  The aide was very nice and said she understood.

I hung up feeling like the situation was in control... and thankful that Timothy had not stayed overnight, in case things got worse and I was called to come to the retirement center - or the ER... neither of which happened.  (Thank you, LORD!)

This morning, I phoned Mam-ma, and she sounded terrible still.  But she had eaten oatmeal and "sipped at" a cup of coffee, of all things. She said those were the only things she could think of that sounded like they would be soothing to her stomach.  I spoke with her a few hours later, and she was still in bed, but no more vomiting.  She said the nurse was ordering a bowl of soup for her for lunch.

I talked to the nurse, and she said that meds were indeed ordered - and received.  She also was withholding Mam-ma's regular meds until she saw that she could keep down food.  As she put it, "No sense giving them to her and having them come right back up."  I told the nurse that I felt like I should come and check on Mam-ma - but I was hesitant.  She quickly said, "NO!  Do not come down here!  This stuff is mean, and you do not want to be exposed to it."  She added that several staff members had gotten it, along with most of the residents.  She assured me that they were taking good care of my grandmother... and I am trusting that they are. 

I told Mam-ma that I am thankful that she has a nice comfortable bed and room... that nurses are just a button press away... and that she has meals and medication delivered to her bedside.  All she has to get up for is to go to the bathroom.  Peggy, the nurse, said that this "bug" lasts about 4 days.  Mam-ma will be weak as water by then; however, the fact she kept down oatmeal this morning is a good sign.  Maybe after more than 2 months of eating well and regular medication, she is stronger and will fight this off more quickly than she would have at home.

I also told Mam-ma that I am glad she is able to talk to me on the phone, so I can at least gauge how she is doing in that manner.  And she did sound stronger when I talked to her around noon.  Hopefully she will mend quickly and none of the rest of us will succumb.  With a baby on the way and a toddler to care for, we don't have time to be out of commission for four days!

I was initially frustrated last night over the responses I was given by the aides on duty.  But I think that part of this was due to the fact I was trying to juggle hosting duties at a party at the same time... and establishing the routine and relationship for the first time in one of these situations with the retirement center.  Once we had talked and I had explained my concerns, the aides were quite helpful and kind... and I do feel they were doing a decent job of meeting Mam-ma's needs.  It's a learning curve for all of us.

So hopefully this crisis will be short-lived, and we can all return to normal - whatever that is!  Meanwhile, I'm trying to rest for Timothy's return - which will be Wednesday, if not sooner... and could be a longer stay this time!  And when Mam-ma and the other residents are "bug-free," I'll return to check her out in person.  I'm sure she will be more than ready to see us by then!

Being the "Mom" to my grandmother and my great-nephew always brings rewards... and often has its challenges.  But sometimes, juggling the care of both of them and meeting their needs is harder than others... and this was one of those times.  I'm learning that I'm stronger than I thought... and that God has sent legions of angels to watch over all of us.  And for that, I am incredibly grateful and blessed!

Could Move-in Day Be In Sight?

The Assisted Living Facility told me on Wednesday that she would contact the DHS caseworker again today if she had not been contacted with a move-in date.  Could today be "the day" that we find out when we can move?  I certainly hope so!

Last night when I phoned Mam-ma about her evening meds, she told me she had worked all day on an old table cloth made by a cousin.  Mam-ma found some crochet thread in her sewing room that matched this cloth, and she thought she would crochet a lace border on it.  In order to do this, she has to punch holes in the hem of the table cloth to insert her crochet hook.  The fabric is very tightly woven, and she was having trouble punching holes.  I asked, "How big is your needle?"  Her reply... "I'm using an ice pick!"

I told her to put the pick and table cloth aside, and I will look at it when I am there next (today).  She said, "Well, I've made myself sick over this."  Then she began to cry.  "Have you heard anything from Southridge?"  I didn't want to get her hopes up, but I couldn't lie... "Yes, the nurse has filed her papers for you, and now it's back in the hands of DHS.  We are supposed to hear something from them about what is happening by Friday."  She said, "Well... I told Ruby that if something doesn't happen in the next few days, I don't think I can make it!"

I gave her a pep talk... told her we're too close to moving... don't quit on me now!  She said it was very hard... she just worries and stews and thinks about it all the time.  My mom asked me last night, "What does she have to do except eat her meals, take her medicine, go about her day and go to bed at night?"  I reminded Mom that anyone in her situation would be anxious.  You have no idea what day is your last in your own home, and you are ready, but nervous, and the anticipation and thoughts and questions from friends and family all just piles up and creates stress.  Mom said she had not thought about it that way.  There is really nothing I can do to keep my grandmother from stressing over this... and little I can do to keep her safe from things like ice picks and faulty wireless doorbell ringers!

Meanwhile, we have not seen our little nephew, Timothy, in a few weeks.  He's been sick with a bad cold, and we've been busy with my grandmother's move.  I saw him briefly at a graveside funeral service for a great-aunt last week.  I snuggled him close inside my coat on a very windy, cold morning, and he fell asleep against my chest as I bounced him while the pastor read scripture and delivered a eulogy.  We are missing him like crazy, and very brief telephone chats that include "Hi!", some jibberish, and "Bye!" are simply not enough!  Once we get this move completed, I plan to have several days with this little guy where we can play and read and dance to "Jack's Big Music Show" and have some FUN!

So I am praying that TODAY we receive a move-in date... that by Monday we are moving some furniture, hanging curtains, and such... and that sometime next week we are driving my Mam-ma Polly to her new abode and settling her in the apartment.  My husband still cautiously reminds me it could be another week or two... but I'm only looking ahead a few days... and praying hard!

Birthday Cards for 101-Year-Olds

Talk about a week of contrasts!  We've had Timothy this week for a couple of days.  He got his first big-boy haircut on Thursday.  He was such a trooper... didn't cry...didn't wiggle.  Living in a small town often has great advantages, and this was no exception.  My friend since childhood, Tiger, did the haircut, and he was a pro all the way.  It had even more meaning because he gave Timmy such special care and attention.

Yesterday was "beauty shop day," so Greg kept Timothy while I took Mam-ma to get her hair done and shopped for groceries.  Timmy had not taken a good morning nap, so he was a little unhappy... but he did take a short nap while I was away.  Mam-ma was napping when I arrived, but she arose and began getting ready to go to the hairdresser's while I dispensed some medicine and checked her doors to make sure they were locked.

Mam-ma had called me earlier in the week and asked if I would take her to a birthday party for her friend Lois, who will be 101 soon.  I told her I would.  On the way home from the beauty shop, I said, "We need to talk about the party... what time do you want to go?"  She said, "Well... they start serving lunch at noon, so I guess about 11:30."  I reminded her that she had mentioned going early to visit with Lois, and she said, "Yes... that's right... let's go at 10:30."  I suggested maybe 10:30 was too early... that Lois might not be there, and she said, "She lives there (with her daughter)!"  I knew that, but I offered that she might not be ready to receive guests for a noon lunch at 10:30 a.m., and Mam-ma retorted, "Well, she will!"   I asked how long we were staying, and she said, "Oh... I think an hour or so after we eat will be sufficient."  Then she added... "Of course, they may insist I stay longer!"  We may be there all afternoon!

So I told Mam-ma I would pick her up at 10:30 a.m.  I asked... "Does this mean you are skipping church?" (Her church service starts at 10:30 a.m.)  She said she was. A few blocks later, she said, "I tell you what... let's go at 10:45."  I told her that would be fine... I'd be there to pick her up and take her.  I hurriedly unpacked her groceries and headed home.  It was 95 degrees at 3:00 p.m. with a heat index about 105 degrees, and I had ice cream in the grocery sack!  I told her I would be back on Sunday, and she said she planned to rest this weekend for the party.

We were expecting my childhood friend and neighbor and her three grandchildren to visit us and have dinner, so I needed to hurry home and get things in order.  Our friends arrived about 5:30, and we made frozen pizzas and sat down to eat.  The phone rang...it was Mam-ma.  "Do you know what I forgot?  I forgot to get a birthday card for Lois."  I told her, "You have a drawer full of birthday cards, don't you?"  She replied, "Well yes, but not one that says 'Happy 101st!'"  I told her I had never seen a card that said "Happy 101st" - that I'd seen them for the 100th birthday, but I seriously doubted there even is a card for the 101st.  I suggested she pick out her prettiest card and write a sweet note in it.  She reluctantly said, "Well, I guess that's what I'll have to do."  I didn't tell her we had company - and she didn't ask. 

Today, while Timmy and I were napping, the phone rang.  I answered and quietly said "Hello?"  I heard Mam-ma say, "I bet you have the baby."  I told her yes, he was here, and she said, "Well, I'll tell you this fast... Lois is not feeling well, so we're not going as early to the party.  Let's go at 12:30.  I told her that would be fine.  A few hours later, she called and said, "Let's go at noon."  I told her noon it is.  She said, "I think they are going to cut the cake at 1:30, so let's go at noon and beat the crowd."  Now obviously she still plans to be there at 1:30, but we're going at noon - for now!  She added, "Go ahead and go to church."  Then she asked... "What time does your church end?"  I told her 10:30, and we would be fine.  So for the moment, we're going at noon!  I have no idea how this is going to go beyond that!

Fodder for the Blog

Whenever something happens lately with my grandmother, I've begun shrugging and saying, "Oh well... fodder for the blog!"  So last week, a dear lady in our community passed away at the age of 102.  Charlsie Baldridge Little was an iconic figure in our community and a tremendous role model for women everywhere. 

Widowed on Pearl Harbor Day at the age of 33, Ms. Charlsie reared two young sons alone, supporting them as a school teacher who made $100 per month!  She managed to stretch that money enough to take summer vacations and introduce her sons to culture and art... such as opera performances they attended by riding a bus some 65 miles to Little Rock. 

Mrs. Little left her sons with their grandparents for a couple of summers while she attended graduate school at Peabody (part of Vanderbilt University) in Nashville, Tennessee.  For a woman to have a master's degree in the late forties/early fifties was rare, particularly in the South... but not if you were Ms. Charlsie!

After retiring in 1973, Mrs. Little formed a local county historical society. She traveled to Little Rock to the state history commission each week to gather data and research family trees.  She also authored a book for the 100th birthday celebration of our community's First Baptist Church - Upon This Rock. Her daughter-in-law, Barbara, (who was my piano teacher), declared Ms. Charlsie to be "a force to be reckoned with" - and she was that and more. 

My mother remembers being in second grade and thinking she would take her cousin's collie dog to school with her.  She envisioned Bing lying beside her school desk, much like Lassie did in the movies.  But when she got to the front door and started inside, her principal - Ms. Charlsie - told her sternly, "Get that dog out of the school house!"  And of course, she did.  She said as a child, she was afraid of Mrs. Charlsie... and one can understand this, because Mrs. Little was so pragmatic, all-business, frank, and yes, stern!  But she was also a model of decency, propriety, and order.

I explain all of this to say that I telephoned my grandmother to see if she wanted to go with me to Ms. Charlsie's funeral.  She did not... she was going to visitation the night before with my mom, and that would suffice.  She added... "I didn't know anything about this until today."  I told her I had assumed her "network" of friends would have let her know right away.  "Well, they didn't," she retorted.  I laughed and said, "They are falling down on the job."  She answered, "Yes, you are!"  I added that I was referring to her Sunday School members, with whom she speaks almost daily.  It was lost on her.

Friday went smoothly... for the most part.  We went to the beauty shop, and I bought groceries.  She had Lysol on the list, and I bought a can of spray... she needed liquid for disinfecting the toilet.  I suggested she get some the next time she and Ruby visited Fred's.

Speaking of Fred's... when Mom took Mam-ma and Ruby to the visitation for Ms. Charlsie, they were getting in their car afterward, and Mam-ma said, "Ruby, do you know where my purse is?"  Ruby asked, "Did you leave it in my car?"  Mam-ma replied, "No, it's at Fred's."  This was Thursday evening... Mam-ma and Ruby had shopped at Fred's on Monday or Tuesday.  Apparently Mam-ma left her purse there, and the store clerks tried to use a phone number inside to contact her, but it wasn't working.  We think maybe it was my sister's old land line number.  Anyway, one of the clerks said, "I know where she lives, and I go by there on my way home.  I'll stop and tell her the purse is here."  I guess they felt that was better than taking the purse, in case Mam-ma didn't answer her door. 

So the clerk stopped and told my grandmother that her purse was at Fred's.  My mom and her husband drove by the store on their way home from the visitation and retrieved the purse.  Mom looked inside, and everything appeared to be there - including $23 in cash.  Mom chastised Mam-ma about being careful... and not carrying a lot of cash in her purse!  Everyone remarked that only in a small town such as ours could something like this happen.  In a major city, nobody would drive to a little old lady's house to let her know her purse had been left.

Mam-ma chalked it up to forgetfulness, but this was the tip of the iceberg.  On Saturday, my sister phoned my grandmother and told her she was coming for a visit.  This was around noon.  Ruby phoned afterward and asked my grandmother to go with her to the nursing home to visit friends.  Mam-ma said she could not... Suzanne was coming for a visit.  My sister stopped at my mom's house for a visit first.  She had baby Timmy with her, and they stayed a half hour or better and arrived at my grandmother's around 2:00 p.m.  The house was locked up tight, and no one would answer the doors.

Naturally, this frightened my sister.  She phoned my mom, and Mom checked with Ruby to see if perhaps Mam-ma was with her.  No, Ruby was at home alone, but this worried her.  Of course, Mom assumed the worst. So she and her husband grabbed their house key and hurried to my grandmother's.  I'm not sure if Ruby came along or not.  Anyway, Mam-ma was not dead in the floor as anticipated... she was not there.  But chicken pieces were baking in the oven... almost burned to a crisp.  Mom said they were rendered inedible.

While Mom and the crew were searching the house for my grandmother, a truck pulled up.  In it were Mam-ma and her friends from church, the Barbers.  They had been to pick plums.  Mom fussed at Mam-ma for leaving the chicken in the oven... she forgot.  She phoned my sister later and apologized for forgetting she was coming.  I don't think it has fully registered with her the gravity of forgetting in such a short period of time all that had transpired... and leaving food baking, to boot.  All she could think about was getting plums to make jelly!

At first, Mom didn't think this really bothered Mam-ma at all.  But she has now phoned my sister at least three, maybe four times to apologize... and she has phoned my mom and her husband once.  She couldn't believe she forgot.  Neither could we.  So there is a pattern developing... and it's not good.  We are all forgetful, but when cooking is involved, the stakes are greatly elevated.  I am not sure how we will deal with this, but we are probably going to have to address it at some point... particularly before "peanut brittle making season" rolls around again.

I know God takes care of these situations in ways we cannot, and I am praying He does this for us.  Ms. Charlsie lived in the nursing home for eight years.  I am not sure Mam-ma could last there 8 weeks.  She would be so miserable.  I love my grandmother dearly and don't want to lose her... but if "the day" comes when she is inside her home when we unlock the door, that will be fine by me.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Timmy came yesterday morning early and stayed until mid-morning today.  This afternoon was "beauty shop" day and errands.  I went from a morning of diapers and chasing a toddler to an afternoon of Ensure and folding up my grandmother's walker!

My grandmother's grocery list included vinegar.  I just bought her a half gallon of vinegar either last week or the week before.  I said, "Now, I'm just asking... but whatcha gonna do with all the vinegar?"  As she shuffled slowly across the room, she said, "Well, I thought I might make pickles."  She has grown the cucumbers in her little garden.  I didn't say anything else - but I bought another half gallon of vinegar!

There are No Safety Tips for Pole Bean Planting

My mom said she sat by my grandmother during the opening service at her church's Sunday School.  A deacon (who is in his 80's) slid a bulging envelope into Mam-ma's hands, and she quickly stuffed it into her purse as if it were diamonds!  It was pole bean seeds!  Mom said he began to tell Mam-ma how to plant them, and she said (I'm sure rather curtly), "Oh, I know how to plant them!"

For the record, summer has come early to the Ozarks.  It's 95 in the shade, with humidity almost that high... and a heat index well above 100 degrees.  The last place my nearly 98-year-old grandmother needs to be is puttering in her yard, much less planting pole beans.  I feel quite certain she has had my cousin (who has a heart condition) plant them for her, as he tends to planting much of her summer garden now.  But she did go out and water her plants and ferns last week, much to Mother's chagrin.  She said they needed watering!

When I did errands last Friday, Mam-ma said, "I talked to a friend, and she asked, 'Have you seen the baby lately?'  I told her 'No... GREG was supposed to bring him over to see me, and he never did.'"  Now, my husband did stop by to visit my grandmother one day (totally his idea and unbeknownst to me), and he did tell her that he would bring the baby by sometime when we were keeping him.  BUT... last week, my sister took the baby by for a 2-hour visit with Mam-ma, and the next day, the baby came to our house.  We did not see the need to return to Mam-ma's with said baby in such short order.  I reminded Mam-ma of this, and she said, "But Greg didn't bring him."  So you see, there is no pleasing her.  And I had to laugh - neither my husband OR my sister got credit for a visit and bringing the baby!

Summer is upon us, and I'm quite sure that it will mean phone calls for us to come pick up fresh vegetables... those grown by my grandmother - but more likely, the bushels and bags full that she will request from friends and church members.  She recently called one evening and asked if I wanted fresh lettuce.  A man in her church had just brought her a big bag full of garden lettuce... and my grandmother cannot eat lettuce!  Rather than refuse it and let him give it to someone who can eat it, she accepted the gift.  I had just bought lettuce that day, so I had all I could use.  I think she told my sister she tossed lettuce in her back yard - probably to lure the baby rabbit that ate her first crop of beans so she can have a chance at nabbing him!

Somehow, the "Ten Steps to Easier Care of Your Senior Adult" phamplet (see post below) did not have a section for preventing your grandma from gardening!  Maybe it should have... if you figure out how that's done, let me know!

Just in Case...

Things have gone pretty smoothly of late with my grandmother's care.  She has been fairly agreeable, and she has thanked me often - and told me numerous times that she loves me.  Last week I took her to our local hospital for an outpatient check of her pacemaker.  I dropped her off at the covered walkway adjacent to the cafeteria, since we planned to have lunch there afterward.  It was a short elevator ride to her appointment. 

As I drove away, I thought, "Wait!  She's going to be 98 years old this fall, and I just dropped her off at the doorway unattended?"  But then I looked back and she was moving right along on her walker, entering the building.  I reminded myself she takes an almost daily walk around the block without any assistance, so while this was remarkable, getting inside a building by herself was no big deal... to her!

We kept Timothy for three days and nights last week, and he was so much fun, but we were pooped by the time he left.  He still doesn't consistently sleep well... a three-hour nap one day followed by no nap the next!  He fell asleep two nights running while eating dinner in his high chair.  I whisked him to a bath and into jammies... and then he got a "second wind" and was awake for a few more hours.  He walks and crawls everywhere, so we're in a constant state of motion when he is awake as we attempt to keep up with him.

Sunday, my grandmother phoned to ask, "Is it hot at your house?"  Yes, I assume it was the same temperature here as it was three miles on the other side of town.  The real purpose of her call was not determined... and that's okay.  At least it wasn't as bizarre as her call the Sunday before:

Mam-ma: "Are your mother and Lee gone?"
Me: "Yes, they went to have lunch with cousins in Quitman."
Mam-ma:  "Well, I just wondered.  Lee wasn't at church.  Your momma was there, but I didn't see him, so I wondered if they were okay."
Me:  "I don't know what to tell you.  Maybe he had to stay home and do something to get ready for their trip to Branson tomorrow."
Mam-ma:  "Well, I seen him headed toward the basement."
Me:  "The basement where?" (Their house has a basement.)
Mam-ma:  "The basement at church - that's where he parks his truck."
Me:  "So Lee was at church?"
Mam-ma:  "No, he wasn't at church.  He must have taught his Sunday School class and then left."
Me:  "Well, Mam-ma, I don't know what to tell you.  Maybe he got sick or something."
Mam-ma:  "Well, he played his trumpet with the band."
Me:  "So how did he play his trumpet if he didn't go to church?"
Mam-ma:  "He played with the band, but he didn't go to the choir after that."
Me:  "So he was at church?"
Mam-ma:  "Yes, but he didn't stay."
Me:  "I don't know what to tell you.  Obviously they have both gone to Quitman, so he must be okay now."

This was a bizarre conversation, to say the least.  I also told her at least twice that my mom and her husband were going to Branson for a week, so that my mom could do interviews and research for a book she is writing about the history of the entertainment industry in Branson. 

That evening, I related this conversation to my mom, and she said, "That is so weird.  I talked to your Mam-ma when we got home, and she asked if Lee was okay, and I said yes, and she said, 'Well, I didn't see him at church.'  I told her he was there and played his trumpet and sang in the choir as usual, and she said, 'Well I never saw him.'"  (Insert theme music from The Twilight Zone here!)

I tell all of this to explain my title - you knew I'd get to it eventually!  Several weeks ago, Mam-ma called one night and asked me if I thought she should have her air conditioner serviced, "just in case it doesn't work when I turn it on."  Now first of all, Mam-ma's house probably never gets any cooler than 85 degrees, so an air conditioner working at half capacity would most likely serve her needs just fine.  But I told her that it was up to her... the big worry on her part was whether she could afford it.  I assured her she could afford to have the unit serviced, but my husband told her that she should turn it on, see if it worked, and then decide if she needed service.  That was the last we heard about the air conditioner... until last night.

My phone rang about 6:30 p.m. as I was preparing our dinner... Mam-ma. 

Mam-ma:  "Debbie, I think maybe I better have my air conditioner serviced."
Me:  "That's fine.  Call Ricky (my cousin who used to work for a local company who did work on heating and air conditioning units) and ask him who you should contact.
Mam-ma:  "I just got off the phone with Ricky.  He told me to call XYZ.
Me:  "Fine.  We've used him before.  Call him tomorrow."
Mam-ma:  "Well, I'm not sure I can afford it."
Me:  "We've been through this before... you can afford it."
Mam-ma:  "Well, I really don't need it right now, but you just never know.  It's working fine for me, but I am just thinking about other people."
Me:  "You sleep on it, and if you want to call someone tomorrow morning, go ahead.  Have them send a bill, and I will pay it."
Mam-ma:  "Okay."

Figuring out why Timothy is cranky and crying is often a much easier dilemma than trying to decipher some of these "adult" conversations!  In the end, I can see that my grandmother is slipping, becoming more forgetful, and losing concentration.  I am taking one day at a time with her... and honestly, I find myself feeling more patient.  I know the time is short...and I am sure she senses that, too.  For now, we are taking things as they are, and as she would put it, trying to "make do."

When It All Comes Together

Friday, I left Timothy at home with Greg while I took Mam-ma Polly to the beauty shop and did her grocery shopping - and ours.  I was also buying food to prepare for a Mother's Day lunch for everyone yesterday... chicken, baked potatoes, salad, cole slaw, broccoli/cauliflower and cheese, rolls, and fresh strawberries and brownies or blueberry muffins with yogurt cheese for dessert.  In my grocery cart, I had diapers and bottle liners... and Ensure for my grandmother... both ends of the spectrum!Yesterday, as we enjoyed our lunch, gifts and cards, and the "Timothy floor show," I looked at five generations represented... a new mother (Jasmine), my sister's first Mother's Day as a grandmother, two great-grandmothers - my mom and Greg's mom, and a great-great-grandmother (Mam-ma Polly).  Jasmine even brought me a "Mother's Day" card and acknowledge me as an "other mother" to her and Timothy.

As I watched my grandmother playing with Timmy - and him giving her kisses - it all came together for me.  Yes, this is a sandwich - and a wild and crazy one at times - but this is also a time to treasure.  I hope Mam-ma lives long enough for Timmy to truly remember her... but if not, we'll give him memories to cherish via photos, stories and more.  Meanwhile, it was a very good day in our house to celebrate mothers.Pictured below...

• My mother-in-law, known to Timmy as "Grandma Elaine."
• My sister, my mom, and her husband.
• Jasmine and Timothy
• Timothy with Mam-ma Polly and Grandma Elaine
• Timothy with Grandma Elaine
• Timothy and Mam-ma - his great-great-grandmother
• Kisses for Mam-ma Polly

Can You See Me Now?

This is a big week for my grandmother.  Thursday night is the annual "Widows Banquet" at her church.  I did not make up this name - they really do call it the "Widow's Banquet."  Each deacon at the First Baptist Church is responsible for the care and nurture of assigned widows.  My grandmother's deacon is wonderful... and he does many very nice things for Mam-ma.  This banquet is always a HUGE deal - as much as the prom is important to any teenager.  We moved Mam-ma's hair appointment to early Thursday, so that her hair will look nice, and she will have plenty of time to rest and dress.  Usually her deacon brings her a corsage, and she wears her nicest outfit.  The church social hall is decorated, the meal is always "delicious," and there is generally live entertainment - usually a musical group.  Mam-ma talks about it for weeks before and afterward.

So Monday, as I sat down to eat a late lunch and visit with my husband and mother-in-law, the phone rang.  Mam-ma wanted to know some details about her funeral.  I explained that everything was taken care of - I had personally spoken to two owners of the funeral home, and all would be handled to her satisfaction.  Then she said, "Well... I want His Eye is on the Sparrow and Beulah Land" (meaning she wants these songs sung at her funeral).  I wrote it down.  I told her I had heard from my mom that she wanted a certain church member to sing Beulah Land after it was sung at another funeral recently.  She said it didn't matter who sang it... and I pointed out she had previously told me she wanted a men's group to sing, and she retorted, "Why, they can't sing Beulah Land!"  I laughed and made notes.  I also asked about the hymns she had told me several months ago she wanted sung.  Now she wants His Eye Is On the Sparrow and Beulah Land.  I told her this was fine - and I would note that today she wants these songs. 

Then I asked, "Are you planning on kicking off any time soon?"  "No," she laughed, "but when you sit here by yourself all alone and think about things, you get to thinking about this."  Later my mom pointed out she doesn't plan to die before the banquet!  Anyway, I tried to console her and reassure her that we would carry out her wishes.

That evening, Mam-ma phoned again.  "Debbie," she said.  "I just sat on my glasses and broke them all to pieces!"  We talked about what she could do - didn't she have another pair that was very similar and close to the same age?  Yes, but she couldn't see out of them (I didn't understand this) and they were "great big."  No, that must be another pair, I told her, but she insisted.  I told her I wasn't sure when I could get there to help her... I was expecting to have the baby the next day and Greg had afternoon appointments.  She said, "Well, that's okay... but I need to be able to see for the banquet."  I pointed out that there would be no way to get new glasses by Thursday.  Maybe these could be repaired.

So Tuesday morning, I called the eye clinic and asked if we coudl come in and see about the glasses.  I dashed to Mam-ma's and collected her.  She was wrapping her glasses in a handkerchief - mangled wire frames with both lenses out - but not broken.  I hoped the girl could repair them.  She thought she could, but there was a piece broken that required a special solder, so we were unable to repair the old set.  New frames were ordered - they will be ready in two weeks!  Mam-ma said, "I can't see out of these others."  The girl checked, and they were misaligned, and she was seeing the bifocal at the same time as the other part, so hopefully that is better now.

We had quite a discussion about whether Medicaid would pay for the glasses.  At first the receptionist said that Medicaid would pay... but when I questioned this, based on past experience, she investigated, and Mam-ma has some sort of "QMB" Medicaid that doesn't cover glasses, apparently... at least not very frequently.  So we will pay $119 - and maybe that is "our" portion for Medicaid - for new frames.  As we left, Mam-ma told the receptionist, "Now I do have Medicaid."  She replied, "Yes ma'am, I know." Under my breath, I told her, "The less Mam-ma knows about how much this is costing, the better."  The woman answered... "I gathered that!"  On the way home, Mam-ma asked, "How much are these glasses gonna cost me?"  I told her around $100 - and that she can afford it.  She always tells me how "broke" she is!

I took Mam-ma home to rest... she had washed her windows yesterday (inside), and she was exhausted. Hopefully she will feel good for Thursday. I got home before Timothy arrived... now he is giving us a workout! Timothy was 11 months old yesterday. My mother reminded me that I was his age when my sister was born! Hmm... an infant and a toddler vs. an infant and a grandmother... there is no "winner" in either of those scenarios! Both have their challenges AND rewards. Some days they are just easier to see.

At Least It Wasn't the Teeth!

Things have been busy around our house lately, to say the least.  We had baby Timmy for a full seven days and nights in late January, due to a combination of work schedule complications for his mom and grandmother and a major snow storm.  The next week, it was 3 days and nights, and in between, we had projects, and another even bigger snow storm.  One day after Snow Storm #2, when Timmy had gone home, I helped my husband deliver Meals on Wheels.  Ice and snow were still everywhere.

My grandmother had called a few evenings earlier, in tears. One of her Sunday School members had died that afternoon.  At age 92, she apparently laid down on her couch and passed away.  The funeral was scheduled for the Wednesday we were out delivering Meals on Wheels.  I had called Mam-ma to see if she needed any groceries.  Yes, she did... and she gave me a list over the phone.  I told her we were also shopping for my mother-in-law, and we would be by later to deliver her items.  She said she was going to her friend's funeral.  I told her I did not think that was a good idea.  "Well," she replied, "Ruby's son has gone to check it out and see if the roads are clear enough for us to go."  For the record, Ruby just celebrated HER 92nd birthday... and while I am sure she still drives fairly well, we are talking 8-9 inches of snow and ice!

I told Mam-ma we might not see her, if she went to the funeral, but I have a key to her house, so we would just put away her groceries and move ahead.  However, while delivering Meals on Wheels, my husband started to leave the home of one of his clients and slipped.  He caught himself and sat down - otherwise, he would have fallen and possibly hurt himself badly.  The sidewalks were icy, and there were several spots of "black ice."  I phoned my grandmother and told her this, and she said, "Well, Ruby's son said the parking lot and sidewalks (at the church) were clear... so if Ruby's going, I'm going."  I told her again I thought that was unwise, and I could tell she was mad at me for saying so.

We turned the corner onto the street where my grandmother lives, and in the shade, that 8-9 inches of snow had turned to a thick slab of ice that had not thawed.  Her driveway looked like a luge run at the Olympics.  This was NOT good.  We entered her house, and I said, "Mam-ma, your driveway is terrible!" and she swung around and yelled, "I'm not a goin', so THERE!"  I replied, "You can just be mad at me... at least you will be safe."  "Well, we're not goin'!" she said, angrily.  I turns out that Ruby's son came by my grandmother's to deliver her sewing machine, which had been serviced at a local dealer's.  When the son saw the icy street and driveway, he told his mother she could not drive herself and Mam-ma to the funeral.  So Mam-ma was mad at me AND Ruby's son!

We unpacked the groceries, and my husband sat down to visit with my grandmother while I dispensed her medicine.  We commented after we left that Mam-ma simply refuses to cooperate.  She fails to recognize that a fall on ice could result in the end of her living alone in her own home - if not the end of her!  During the first snow, I arrived one day to see her shovel propped against the garage door.  I asked her why it was there, and she said, "Well, I had to shovel a path to my mailbox... but my nice neighbor saw me and came and did it for me."  That nice neighbor had emergency multiple heart bypass surgery a few years ago and did not need to be shoveling snow, either!  My grandmother knew this, but that didn't stop her from allowing it!

While we were at my grandmother's, she mentioned that she had terrible static again on her telephone line.  We called the phone company once last fall for this, and the lineman supposedly repaired this.  My husband had tested the phone lines in the house and determined the problem was somewhere between the pole and the house.  So we told my grandmother we would call and report this latest static.  The baby came, things happened, and honestly, I forgot.  Until today...

It started with a phone call from Mam-ma this morning - "You need to call the boys at the phone company" (Oh, shoot, I thought... I meant to do that last week...) - you need to call the phone company and tell them my power is off."

Me: "Your power is off?"
Mam-ma: "Yes."
Me: "Then I need to call the power company, not the phone company!"
Mam-ma: "Well whatever..."

I called the power company - they would have power restored between 11:30 and 12:30 (this was about 10:30). It has been a gorgeous, WARM day here - up in the 60's - and when I called her about noon to see if she had power, she did, and she said, "I tell you what - this WEATHER - it was really startin' to get cold in here in just that short a time."   I promise, this was happenin' - not possible, but she had cranked up her heat to warm things up!

I had talked to my sister, and she said, "Well, she's not going to be in a good mood." Was she ever right! When I called Mam-ma at noon, I told her, "Now your hair appointment is not until 2:00. I know you think it's at 1:30, but it's not... it's at 2:00, and I will be there in plenty of time to get you." "Well, okay..." she said. She has argued with me in recent weeks that "I don't know WHEN we changed from 1:30 to 2:00," and I cannot convince her that her appointment was NEVER at 1:30. It dawned on me that this is why Mam-ma thought I was late last week and was calling for me and waiting with her walker on the driveway. She has it in her head that we go 30 minutes earlier than her 2:00 p.m. appointment.

I got to Mam-ma's house, and she was a little rattled... she forgot her purse and had to go back for it. And she had the same empty can of disinfectant that must have come from one of her shopping trips with Ruby - some off-off-off brand I've never seen that she SWEARS I bought for her at Wal-mart. I told her, "I bought you disinfectant 2 weeks ago." She got all upset... she keeps a can in her bathroom and one in the kitchen. "So you need another can?" Yes, she did. I told her that was simple enough and all she had to say... but she was still upset with me and insisted that "you got that can of country fresh disinfectant somewhere for me... I think Wal-Mart." I told her WalMart has NEVER had that brand, that I recall... and I was fairly sure I did not, but I would be happy to buy her another can of something today.

We got to Mam-ma's hair done and I bought her groceries and mine. I remembered that I had promised to take her walker to have the "feet" seen about, and when I picked her up, I asked, "Do you still want to do that today?" She started in, "Well yes, they are just plumb wore out! I need some rubber tips on there instead of them brakes and wheels." I told her, "You can just go in and tell them yourself." BIG MISTAKE!!!

I took her in, and she started in telling the medical supply personnel how the bottom covering on her walker was worn out. We determined that I bought that walker on November 13th, and the man asked if she used it outside, and I spoke up and said, "No, you fixed another one for her to use outside and in the yard. This is her walker for church and indoors." So the man and his partner discussed what she needed, and I can't remember what he asked Mam-ma, but she said very snidely, "Well of COURSE!" like he was the stupidest person on the planet. I just shook my head... but I wanted to shake her! Then, the girl decided she did need just rubber tips, and she went to get a new set of legs from the back that would accommodate the tips. Mam-ma asked, "Well just how much is that gonna cost me?" The guy winked and said, "Oh, not too much."

The girl came back with the legs for the walker, and she put them on, and the man asked Mam-ma something else, and again, very snidely, she retorted, "Well of COURSE!" like he was an idiot, and under my breath to the woman, I said, "I am so sorry," and she laughed and brushed it off and said, "nah... that's okay."  And... there was no charge for the tips/legs. Mam-ma asked, "Well what happens when these wear out?" The girl answered, "Come back in and we'll fix you up again."

So we got out in the parking lot, and Mam-ma said, "These won't last... the concrete will eat them right up." #1... she got what she wanted, and #2, I pointed out she didn't use this walker on concrete much. She wheeled around and looked at me like *I* was an idiot and said, "Oh, yes, I do." I asked, "You don't use this walker when you walk around the block, do you?" She answered... "Yes." I told her, "Mam-ma... we got you fixed up with another walker for outside... you have this walker for using at church and when you go with Ruby to play dominoes and shopping... and the outside walker for your yard and for walking on the street."

Mam-ma: "Well, I didn't know that."
Me: "Yes, you DID know that... we talked about it, and I'm pretty sure I wrote 'OUTSIDE' on that walker, so you would know which was which!"
Mam-ma (meekly, and with a whine):  "Well, I didn't know." 

Then she started to cry and said, "I guess I should just stay home." I asked her why, and she said, "Because I'm just so much trouble." I told her she was NOT trouble, but she needed to pay closer attention to what I tell her.

We got home, and sure enough, FOLDED UP in the corner in her garage is the walker with the wheels that rotate for better balance in the yard and on the street, clearly marked in TWO PLACES - OUTSIDE. I showed it to her, and she said, "Well, I didn't know." I told her, "If you have any questions, just look on the bar. If it says OUTSIDE, you use it when you walk around the block. Do NOT use this one with the new tips except for church and going somewhere like that." "Well, I'll try," she whined.

I put away her groceries and realized she did not have enough medicine to get through next Friday, so I sat down to fix that. She started in about wanting me to fix her answering machine and telephone - it was blinking from the power outtage. I sat down to adjust the clock and the message, and I needed the instructions. They were in her desk... she handed them to me... they were in Spanish! I told her never mind, I figured it out, but by then she had found the English instructions and gone to her bedroom for something.

She came back asking, "What am I gonna do about this blanket? It won't turn off." What blanket? Her electric blanket... it had been "on" since the power came back on, and it wouldn't turn off. It turns out it was malfunctioning - a digital thing. I unplugged it from the wall - by working my arm behind her bed - and replugged it and everything was fine... then I heard her mutter, "I guess I'll crawl under the bed and unplug it." Geez! I told her no... I had already done that and FIXED it!

Her phone in the bedroom is still full of static, so I told her we would bring a phone and check it out soon. I called the phone company, but they think it's a phone problem. So we will see. Meanwhile, she said, "Well, I sure hate to have to buy another phone." I told her I seriously doubt she will... and besides, they are not that expensive. I think we have another old one we can give her... my husband is going to look. Then she started in about something else and I finally said, "Mam-ma, I HAVE to go, or my cold groceries are going to spoil." Looking like she had just discovered that I had cold groceries, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry - you just go on." I thought if I spent another minute in that house I might scream - or suffocate! (She obviously kicked the heat up several notches to compensate for the power outtage and how cold her house had become.) 

Oh, and she showed me pillowcases she finished embroidering for herself, and I complimented the work, and she said, "Well I sure wish I could do something about these glasses." I reminded her the doctor said there was nothing to do, and she said, "Yes, he said he could make me some bifocals for reading and close-up work." I asked, didn't her glasses that she wears now have bifocals? She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "These glasses I wear have bifocals in 'em, but they don't work." So she dropped that, and I prayed silently, "Lord, don't let her mention her teeth next!" That little wrinkle - or is it a bubble? - seems to have passed for the moment. (She told me in the middle of Snowstorm #1 that "something has to be done about these teeth!"  She had worked on her dentures herself, and apparently she was able to adjust them and remove the "blister" bubble that appeared.  The dentist had told her to stick a pin in the bubble to deflate it, then file it with an emery board.  Apparently that worked.)

Bless her heart... she just is such a mess. Her neighbor had brought her a beautiful vase of fresh flowers that was on the kitchen table - a "bouquet" she made from extra flowers at her church.  Another neighbor had left the paper for her in the doorway. And the a couple from her church had taken her out to eat last night. I asked if it was good, and she said, "Not really - they didn't have any chicken livers." I told her I'd only eaten at this particular restaurant once, but I didn't recall seeing any chicken livers, and she said, "Well I guess they don't have 'em!" She said her fish was too crispy, and "I just thought about what your daddy said - eat what you can and leave the rest." Don't you know she got her money's worth?!

Needless to say, I was very glad to get home to my husband and two cats and my quiet house.  We kept Timmy last night while my sister worked, and he is now crawling and pulling up on EVERYTHING and requiring every-minute attention so he doesn't get into something he shouldn't.  But he is less challenging than my grandmother.  My niece, who is a CNA at a local nursing home said, "You know dressing and undressing babies and old people is a lot a like - but old people give you a whole lot more trouble!"  I think that could be said about a lot of things.  Like I said, at least she didn't mention a trip to the dentist today.  But then again, I may not have given her quite enough time... and the weekend has just begun!