Well, I'm loath to show Mom online. So here is me, with a corner of Mom. She'd been begging me for weeks to see the new condo, and I kept delaying, hoping she'd forget. Mom doesn't travel well -- though this was only a mile -- and I am, well, just plain not good at taking her out.
But today, after chapel, she seemed pretty chipper, and I loaded a backpack with extra diapers and cleaning materials, wrestled her out of the wheelchair and into the car, drove the mile, wrestled her out of the car and into the wheelchair, working up a hearty flop sweat. Down in the garage, she said, "I've never been here before."
We spent about 10 minutes in the condo, and there were no accidents. I showed her all the views, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, the study, the bedrooms, and all the wonderful closets. She said, "It's nice. It's beautiful." And I have to admit that, for a moment, I made a little involuntary transition from doing a favor for my mom to being really happy, really satisfied that she had seen it -- for my ownself. Your mom should know where you live.
*
That was a good moment. In other ways, at other times, her place, and this job, are really getting to me. It's not that I resent the time it costs me -- though of course I do -- it's the way it brings me down. I took Mom to "Move and Groove" Wednesday, and there were, I think, seven residents there -- seven residents and seven kinds of misery. Joy was sobbing uncontrollably, John was agitated and wondered if he should be there, Joanne was staring unhappily at the floor, and B -- good old B -- has lost so much in recent weeks that she's only barely present. I thought I'd scream. Instead I left early, feeling bad that I'd abandoned Lauren, the leader, alone in room full of hurt.
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| The Island Revisited Homage to Jimmy |
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