Innovations in Momcare

Dove bar dissection

My most recent innovation in Momcare was yesterday's Dove bar. I pulled the hard exterior chocolate off, chopped it up, and gave bits of it to her with spoonfuls of ice cream. She ate almost the whole thing, closing her eyes in quiet ecstasy with little each bite.

Today, after church, I went for two in a row. I got her a brownie with custard swirls in it, cut it up in small pieces and soaked it all in coffee. She liked that, too. You take your satisfaction where you find it.

When I arrived for church today she was unusually -- peppy is too strong a word -- alert, I guess. Jackie the aide said, "She's having a great day."

Of course that's a good thing, but it is accompanied by an unusual amount of energy poured into her difficult habits -- working her feet free, trying to stand, grabbing passing pews and handrails, and, except in church, talking out one anxiety after another: "Did you get the tickets?"; we have to greet the pastor (we had just done that); we should return to the Bistro "where the people were standing" (we'd just been there), "we don't have a spoon" (we did have a spoon), and so on.

But one moment made me feel of use. Pushing her in the chair she called back, "Jon, come with me, come with me!" not able to see me, not knowing I was pushing.

We had to return to her room at one point to get her attachable coffee-cup holder.

"Well, where is it?" she asks.

"It's in your room."

"Well, we're spending the whole while on one part of our problem."

It was a way to be with her.

*

She has a new wheelchair, as maybe the pictures show. It's got a high back with a pillow, so she can rest without folding in half, and a board between the foot rests, to keep her feet off the floor. She was determined today, and still reached the floor.

The new wheelchair.

One foot on the floor. 

Flowers and farms

Mom's birthday, Aug. 20, with Ms. V.

Well, thanks to all those who sent cards and letters and flowers to Mom for her birthday. I read her every word, and she was pleased. It was her 84th, her fourth since she moved.

I went to get her for church this morning and found her doubled over in her chair. I wasn't sure if she was asleep or just didn't have the wherewithal to sit up straight. I sat her up and said, "Do you want to go to church, or should we just skip it?"

"Let's skip it," she said.

For her, a radical decision. For myself, I'm hoping we can just stop going to church, since very often we are on the drowsy side.

Mom lately has been saying things like this:

"It's hard to figure out."

"Did you get the tickets?"

"Make sure you get a big one so we can all fit."

I agree, or reassure, or say I will, and I have no idea what she's talking about. But they are the kinds of issues a lot of her life was made up of -- managing four kids, planning trips and outings. So, though the substance of the events are long gone, she's still tending to the logistics.

Today, in the Bistro, she said, "See those red flowers down there? They're so beautiful."

They were beautiful, and I felt moved that she got that out. And later, a man passed us and said, "Hi Mary."

"He recognized me," Mom said.

"Everybody here knows you, Mom," I said.

"That's right, you can't hide," she said.

A joke, and I did laugh.

*

I rode my bike 300 miles over five days a week ago -- with all kinds of gear. I'm not sure how long I can go on doing this, but I had fun.

Highway 45.
As high as an elephant's eye.

Here's looking at ewe.

Wisconsin gothic.

Back home, at a wedding last night, with V and young Ahna.
(I have a congenital inability to smile.)