For Auld Lang Syne

 

Since mom’s memory seems to be fading, yesterday when I saw mom I brought her wedding book with me.  Her book is quite, large but I managed to wheel her to a table in the activity room while holding on to her book.  In the past I would have had mom hold her book on her lap while I wheeled her, but she does not have any strength to be able to do that now.

Mom’s wedding book is absolutely one of the most beautiful wedding books I have ever seen.  The first few pages were mom in her wedding dress.  Her dress was nothing short of spectacular even in today’s standards.  I would have gladly worn mom’s wedding dress had the dress been cleaned after her wedding.  Unfortunately, nothing had been done to preserve her dress so the dress had yellowed and the stains from the evening were set in permanently.

While I turned the pages, mom seemed to be in a trance. 

“Mom, you look beautiful in your wedding dress.”

Mom looked at me and smiled and looked back at the book.

I turned another page where dad was kissing her.  “Who’s that mom?”

 

“Guido,” mom said.

“Dad was a handsome man.”  Mom shook her head agreeing with me.

The next page was of her bridal party.  “Mom, do you recognize these people?”

 

She seemed to be in deep thought.   I pointed to one of her bridesmaids “Who is this mom?  She is your sister.”

“Lena.” Mom said.

"Aunt Lena's husband is standing alongside her."

Mom said nothing. 

"Mom, that is Uncle Al." 

Mom smiled.

I pointed to her other bridesmaid, “Do you recognize this person?  She is your best friend.  She just visited you with her husband, Bill.”

“Nita,” mom stated.

“You are doing great, mom!”

“You had a beautiful flower child? Do you remember her name?”

Mom starred, but she said nothing.  So I said, “Janice, she is one of your godchildren.”

Mom shook her head yes as though Janice’s name was on the tip of her tongue.

The next photo had my half sister, Jean, and my half brother, John. "Mom, is this Jean and John?"  She smiled at me and nodded yes.

 

When I turned to the last page, the photo was of mom and dad and her mother and father.  I could see that mom was exhausted looking at all these photos.

“Do you recognize this couple?”

Mom shook her head yes, but said nothing.

“That is your mother and father.”

 

Mom nodded in agreement.

Once I had closed the book mom said, “What is His Reason?”

“Mom, are you talking about God?”

She nodded yes.

“I wish I knew, but I do not know His reason for keeping you here.”

“Let me . . . Go!”

“Mom, I let you go a long time ago when you first asked me to.  I wish that was enough. ”

“Ready!!!”

“I know you are ready, mom.  I think you think that I am keeping you alive, but I am not.  Mom, God has all the control,” I said in frustration, but trying to help her understand.

I suggested that we pray and we did as we normally do holding hands.

I hugged mom tight and kissed her.  She said, “I     . . .  looking  . . . answers.”

I shook my head agreeing with mom, “I wish I had the answers.”

Mom said, “Pray for me.”

I reassured her that not a day or evening go by without me praying for her.

As I write this blog on New Year's Eve, I cannot help but wonder what His reason is and truly wishing I had the answer.  Certainly, mom is more than ready.  How much longer does she have to wait?  What will 2013 bring mom?

 

Mom's Christmas Wish

 

On Christmas Morning, I slept late due to being up for several hours during the middle of the night.  When I woke up the first thing I saw on my dresser was the rosary I laid there just a few hours ago. 

Ron asked me immediately what our plans were for today.  Although every Christmas Day, we normally go to a blockbuster show before going over to Jerome and Debbie’s for Christmas Dinner that was not my intention today. My plan was to bring the rosary to my mom and say the rosary with her.  Ron understood; he agreed to go with me.

Upon arriving at The Community* the reception area was closed due to the holiday.  We proceeded to the elevators when Ron announced that there were no more masks just an empty box which used to hold masks. 

 

We continued on the elevator anyway because we were here on a mission. As we stepped off the elevator another table with a box of masks greeted us.  We immediately each put on a mask.

 

When we saw mom, she was startled at first.  When I reassured her that Ron and I just wanted to spend some time with her on Christmas Day she seemed to become a little more relaxed.  Mom was anxious to tell me that Jerome was there earlier today.

“He . . . fed  . . .  me,” Mom said.

“How nice, mom.”

“Julienne . . . it  . . . was  . . . beautiful,” mom coughed a lot.  I could hear all the congestion in her lungs.

His visit on Christmas Day truly meant a lot to her.

“Mom, look what I found last night,” I took out the crystal orchid rosary she had given me so long ago.

 

Mom shook her head and lifted her shoulders, “What is it?” 

I was shocked that mom could not remember.    Until a few months ago, mom said a rosary several times a week.  When talking with her she would always tell me that she said a rosary that day; she would tell me who she said the rosary for.  Mom always felt the prayers needed to be intended for someone.  She always wanted me to know just who they were for even when the prayers were not for me.  Praying the rosary was mom’s way of giving our sickness, job loss or money problems to God.  Praying the rosary was mom’s way of supporting her children.  When mom did not have something in particular to pray for, she would tell me she prayed for her whole family and anyone else who needed prayers.

“Mom, you gave me this rosary many years ago.  This rosary came from Medjugorje.”

“I don’t remember,” mom sadly said.

I explained, “mom you used to say the rosary at church and at The Community* almost every day.  How about if Ron and I say the rosary and you just listen?”

Mom shook her head that she was agreeing.  Ron held one of mom’s hands and I held her other hand and we began praying.  When we said the first Hail Mary mom looked at me and said, “I don’t  . . . know   . . . that . . . prayer.”

“Mom, that prayer is the Hail Mary.  By praying that prayer we are asking Jesus mother, Mary, to talk to him for us and grant His help.”

Mom shook her head no meaning she did not understand.

“Mom, Ron and I will keep saying the prayers.”  Again, mom nodded that she was in agreement.

We just began saying the third mystery when mom spoke up shaking her head in frustration,  “Too long  are  . . . almost  . . .done?”

“No mom we are not half way through.”

Mom shook her head she was frustrated, “No.”  I thought praying the rosary would have a calming effect on mom instead I brought her more frustration.

“Mom, you and I always pray directly to Jesus.  Should we pray your special prayer “Mom is the Light?”

Mom smiled, “Yes.”

Still holding hands we prayed her special prayer.  Mom seemed relieved and somewhat comforted.  

“Ask . . .  God . . . for angels,” mom said. 

I knew exactly what mom wanted so I said, “Dear God, please have your angels come and take mom home to you.”

Mom smiled and once again nodded that she agreed.

“Mom, I am praying for your peace even when I am not with you, right Ron?”

“Mom, Julienne and I say the “Mom is the Light prayer for you every morning together.”

“OK . . . go” mom said.

We both wished mom a Merry Christmas again.

Mom said, “Where?”

“Mom, are you asking me where we are going today?”

She shook her head yes.

“Ron and I are going to Jerome and Debbie’s for Christmas Dinner.”

“I wish  . . . I could,” while saying those words she was shaking her head no.

“Mom, we wish you could, too.  You know they will not let me take you out anymore.”

“Yes . . . too sick.”

"Mom you are always with us and we are always with you,” I said wanting mom to know she is very loved and that she will be very missed tonight.

Ron hugged and kissed mom.  Then I hugged and kissed her.

“We love you mom with all of our hearts.”

Mom said, “Tell  . . . everyone . . .  I love  . . . them  . . .  my  . . . whole  . . . heart.”

 

Ron and I left blowing kisses to mom.  She still finds great comfort blowing kisses back to us. 

 

Comforted by Prayer

 

Later that afternoon, Mom and Dad Lentz, Ron, and I met Alyssa and Wes for candlelight Christmas Eve Service.  As we walked in we chose a white candle to hold and light at the end where the most comforting words would be spoken “Jesus is the Light of the world.”

During the lighting of the candle ceremony tears ran down my face as I knew that just last year mom was standing next to me.   We have attended Christmas Eve Mass or Service together since dad died at 3:37 pm on Christmas Eve 24 years ago.

 

 

 

Additionally the special prayer mom and I say each time were together is ‘Mom is the Light.’  She seems most comforted knowing that Jesus lies within her, protecting her, surrounding her, guiding her and giving her peace. 

Shortly thereafter, we all headed to Jamie and Tracy’s for dinner.  Their home looked magnificent as always at Christmastime.  When the toast was said we prayed for all our family members who we loved that had already passed away.  We prayed for mom.  

The saddest part for me was the absence of mom.  I knew she could not physically or mentally join us, I spoke up, “To me this is one of the toughest things to be able to enjoy our Christmas celebration without mom while she is alive, but not coherent.  I truly understand that mom is where she needs to be, but the feeling of emptiness still lingers inside me.”

When Ron and I arrived home, we started watching another Christmas Hallmark movie and quickly fell asleep.  I woke up at 3am only to lay in bed for over an hour just thinking about mom and if she was sleeping peacefully tonight.  I tossed and turned, but there seemed no rest was to be had so I crawled out of bed and went into my walk-in closet.  Something I do when I am nervous or feel anxious is clean and organize.  So yes, you guessed right at 4am on Christmas morning, I was cleaning my closet.  I cleaned for over an hour.

As I was cleaning, I found a gift mom had given me years ago:  a rosary.  This rosary was given to mom from someone who had visited Medjugorje.    I do not believe in coincidences, I believe everything happens for a reason. 

Mom used to pray the rosary several times a week.  Many times she has prayed a rosary for me and my brothers when we needed prayers.  Now I was holding her rosary in my hands.   I gently sat on my vanity bench that I sometimes use as a stepping stool to put things up or take things down from my top shelf.  When I sat down, I looked up at the crucifix that I have hanging in my closet. This crucifix was on my dad’s casket.  The crucifix reminds me that dad is with Jesus. 

Then I did what I have not done in years.  I dropped to my knees and prayed the rosary.   Kneeling was especially difficult for me right now because I just had toe surgery, but my foot seemed to be protected by the air boot I was wearing.  After I finished praying the rosary, I walked out of the closet only to fall fast asleep in bed . . .  comforted by a clean closet and prayer.

Merry Christmas, Mom

Ron and I arrived at The Community* to find that they are still under quarantine.  Everyone visiting and all employees must wear face masks no exceptions.  I headed to the restroom to warm my hands under hot water so I could hold mom’s hands without her flinching.

When Ron and I saw mom, her eyes lit up and she said, “You came.”  She looked extremely tired and weak as if all the life has been drained from her.

“Mom, my surgery went well.  Look I am even walking without crutches already.”

“Good,” she nodded.

“Mom, Julienne made you a very special Christmas gift.  She made you a video of your entire life,” Ron said.  Ron wheeled mom over to a table in the activities room where he set the video up for us to watch.

Mom mumbled.  We had no idea what she said.  The more she mumbled the closer I moved to hear as if moving closer would help me understand.

When the video started Ron said, “Mom, who is that beautiful little girl.  She is a beautiful young girl now.”  Ron kept commenting as the video kept rolling along.

‘I was sad . . .  when young,” mom said.

“Mom, look at that good-looking couple,” Ron was talking about mom and dad’s wedding photos.

“Don’t remember,” mom said.

“I am sure your wedding is hard to remember.  Your wedding was a long time ago.  I can barely remember my wedding,” I said.

“Wow!” she shook her head again.

 “Mom, you’ve touched a lot of people’s lives,” I said.   The entire time we watched the video mom and I held hands. 

Mom kept mumbling.   “I kept telling her I know how hard it is for her not to be able to express herself.” 

The video kept rolling.   Ron and I kept talking to her about the people in the photos to help her remember.  Throughout watching the video mom kept closing her eyes saying, “I feel like . . .  crying.”  Although she did not cry it seemed like she wished she could.

“Mom, these are happy pictures so I hope your tears would be tears of joy,” I said.

She shook her head. 

When the video was over, mom hugged, kissed and told us both that she loved us. 

I said, “Mom was the video a good Christmas gift.”

“Gorgeous.” Mom said as clear as day.   When I was growing up mom’s highest compliment she could give was saying something was ‘gorgeous”.  So I knew she was pleased.

The three of us all held each other’s hands while we said our prayers.

“Mom, I love you with my whole heart, Merry Christmas.” I said while I squeezed her again.

“My whole heart too,” mom said.

All three of us blew kisses. 

I know some of mom’s life has been difficult.  But watching all the memories go by, I realized mom has had many beautiful moments throughout her life; the world would not have been the same without her.  God knows that neither I nor my brothers would be here without her and for that I will always be grateful.    

 

Missing Mom

 

The last time I saw mom was last Sunday.  The Community* is still under quarantined for influenza A.  Due to me having a second surgery on my foot last Friday, I was skeptical to take the chance of getting sick and having to postpone my surgery.   During my last visit with mom, I was surrounded by other residents who were coughing, sneezing, and gagging.  I had informed mom and the nursing staff that I was going in for surgery so they would know why I would not be able to visit for a little while.

Mom is always on my mind.  I call the nurses’ station daily to check and see how she is doing.  The same answer I receive is ‘your mom is very confused and we cannot understand her’.  I am so saddened by these statements.



Mom will not talk on the phone and I understand her reasons why. Right now mom has a difficult time understanding what anyone is saying to her much less being able to hold any conversation.  Fortunately both of my brothers have seen mom during the week when I was unable to visit.  She still recognizes us.

Yesterday was a very painful day for me with regard to my foot pain; I did absolutely nothing but slept or complained on how much pain I was in.  Today is so much better.  I am actually being productive.  I am so excited that I am back working on a Christmas present for mom that I have been working on for weeks.  I am making her a video of her life.  I plan to take my computer to her tomorrow so we can watch the video together.  The video shows mom’s entire life including all her family and friends who love her.



Tomorrow I will wake up with the excitement of a little kid on Christmas morning to go visit mom and give her my gift.  I hope she will be able to enjoy the video with me.  Most importantly, I hope she will feel the love from everyone whose lives she has touched through the years.

Wake Up Call

On Sunday morning, the phone rang while we were still in bed. Mom’s nurse, Billy* spoke softly, “Julianne, your mother has had an accident. She fell. We are not sure how this happened. She was on the floor in the washroom when an aide found her. Your mother is very confused; we cannot make out what she was saying. Your mother is so weak; she asked me to put her back in bed. She is sleeping right now.”

“Billy*, thank you for calling me, I will be right over.”

“Julianne, we are in quarantine.”

“I understand.   I would like to come and see my mom.”

Upon arriving at The Community*, I went to sign in at the reception desk. Allison* told me that the entire place is quarantined; they are not recommending anyone to visit. I explained what happened to mom this morning. Allison* suggested I wear gloves and a mask. I agreed, too.

As the elevators opened on the second floor and I stepped out, I saw a stretcher with a blue body bag. Chills ran down my spine. I looked at the man wheeling the stretcher into the elevator, he was expressionless. He did not make eye contact with me. He wanted no questions asked. He obviously had done this many times before.

I continued to mom’s room and surprised when I walked into her room and she was not there. I proceeded to the nurses’ station where mom was sleeping in her wheelchair. Apparently when she woke up, she wanted to be with everyone else.

Mom shook her head from side to side; she was letting me know she had a bad morning. I let her know that I knew that she had fallen. When I asked her if she was in any pain she told me that she was not. Mom was mumbling more than ever. I tried to do most of the talking about the incident to see if I had the story right. She let me know when she agreed and when she did not agree.

Through mom’s hard effort to communicate and me trying to guess what she wanted me to know, I finally found out what happened.

Mom was in the washroom first thing in the morning to wash her face and brush her teeth. The aide brought her in and left her which is common so that the aide can help others get started, too. Mom was weak and for some unknown reason she stood up, Mom thought someone was there to help her sit back down. When she stepped back to sit back down, mom missed the seat of the wheelchair and fell on the floor.

Mom was relieved for me to know the story. She wanted me to tell Billy* when she walked over to see how mom was doing.

Mom’s temperature yesterday was 101.9. She had a lot of congestion. She saw the mask and surgical gloves and wanted me to go home so I did not become sick. I let her know that I had to come to see her and make sure she was OK.

I wheeled mom into the cafeteria. I asked mom if she would like me to feed her. She shook her head no, “Home.” Mom’s concern was for me; she wanted me to leave.

We prayed, blew kisses, and I gladly left on mom’s request.

Quarantined

 

On Monday night I received a call from The Community* that mom had become more confused.   The night nurse mentioned that they cannot make any sense from what mom is presently saying.  What was most alarming was that mom tried to eat a tissue while she was sitting in her wheelchair around the nurses’ station.  Her nurse immediately tried to stop mom before she choked.  However, mom became angry at the nurse for taking the tissue out of mom’s mouth.

I asked Barb* if she thought I should come over to see mom right now.  She discouraged me from coming over because mom was already in bed and I would be startling her.  Barb* informed me that mom’s doctor ordered a set of labs to be taken from mom tomorrow along with a urine test.  Sometimes when an elderly person has a UTI, they will become confused.

On Tuesday, I called to see how mom was doing.  They had taken her labs, but now mom had a temperature of 100.5. The urine culture takes three days to find out results.  When I mentioned that I would be stopping by Billy* stated that mom’s section is quarantined, they are asking family to stay away if possible.  Billy* promised to call me if there was any change with mom.  I agreed to stay away.

In the next few days mom’s temperature was like a roller coaster going up and down.  I kept phoning to see if The Community* was still quarantined.  The answer was always ‘Yes’.  On Thursday afternoon, even though I knew the quarantine band was still there, I drove over to The Community*.  Since mom is so confused I knew she would not understand the reason she is not seeing me or either of my brothers.  I figured she would just be sad and lonely.  I was right.

When I arrived I found out that the entire building was now quarantined due to upper respiratory virus that was present in several residents throughout the building.  Walking to my mom’s room, I saw many residents in bed.  Mom was in her room in her wheelchair with the nebulizer on and her eyes closed.   I whispered, “Mom, I’m here, I love you.”  She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.  I sat holding her hands until the nurse came in to remove the nebulizer.

I tried to explain to mom about the quarantine even taking her in the hall and showing her that the doors to her hall were closed not wanting outside people to come in. 

Billy* told me that mom has caught the upper respiratory virus.  Mom was uncomfortable.  She tried so hard to tell me things without success.  Mom always wants to pray with me so before I left, we did.  I told mom that she is very loved.  Although mom seems to grow weaker, she still always blows me kisses when I leave and this day was no different.

Until We Hug Again Video

Until We Hug Again

 

My dad who was one of my favorite people in my life passed away on Christmas Eve in 1989.  I carry his photo with me every day. To preserve this treasured photo, I laminated it.  Each and every time I open my wallet, dad is there smiling back at me.  I have often imagined him asking me if I really need to make that purchase or would my money be better in the bank.   No matter how hard I try what I cannot remember is the sound of dad’s voice. 

During this past week, what I am already starting to miss most about mom is not being able to communicate with her.   Her voice is a whisper at best.  I miss our recent memorable and touching conversations about how much we mean to each other.  I decided that is not going to happen to me again.  Now with mom in her present stage; she has few words that she can say.   However, I am not going to let her voice slip away. 

Fortunately many months ago before mom had a stroke, I had saved a recording that she had sent me.  The message is so sweet and loving that I wanted to keep it.  I have listened to her recording many times always concerned that some time by accident I might delete it.  Over the years, I have had many phone messages that I wanted to save and yet time and time again somehow they were deleted.  I could not let that happen again.

I remembered when I was reading the Sunday paper last week that I saw a sales advertisement insert for Hallmark.  The item that caught my eye was a Teddy Bear called Until We Hug Again.  What makes this bear special is a voice recorder planted inside.  When I mentioned my idea to Ron after we had just visited with mom, he drove me immediately over to a Hallmark store.

 

Once there I had the option of a Teddy Bear or a Pink Bunny Rabbit.  There was no question in my mind that the bear was for me.  Although the recordable plush is clearly meant for Grandparents to give to their grandchildren, we saw no reason why I should not have this keepsake of my mom’s voice and her kind message to me. 

When we arrived home, Ron and I together transferred mom’s message on to the bear’s recorder.  My bear now sits in my bookshelf as my writing muse.  Anytime I feel a need to hear mom’s voice all I need to do is hug the bear.  In her message, mom is trying to comfort me before an appointment I had with my neurosurgeon.  During the recording, mom’s voice sounds heavy. She seems to be having a shortness of breath, but her message is priceless.

“Julienne, this is mom.  I wanted you to know that if Ron can’t be there with you or either of you thinks I should be there with you tomorrow; I would be more than happy to come.  I don’t want to make a nuisance of myself.  I wanted you to know that I just said a rosary for you.  May God help you and be with you.  I love you.”

My bear’s name is ‘Mom’.  She will be with me forever even when mom can’t.  I will hear mom’s voice with every hug.

 

 

Guardian Angels

 

On Saturday, Ron and I went to visit mom. We found mom hooked up to a nebulizer with her eyes closed.  After her treatment was finished, Ron and I wheeled mom down the hall near a Christmas tree where we sat for only a few moments.  Mom was fidgety; she was uncomfortable leaving the nurses’ station.  Mom glanced down the hall at the nurses’ station, ‘Who’s there?”

“Both Billy* and Barb* are there”. They are both mom’s nurses and two of mom’s favorite people.

Mom panicking said, “Let’s go.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“See . . . Barb*.

“We just wheeled you down here from Barb*.  Can we sit for awhile, Mom?”

Mom shook her need side to side as though my answer was not acceptable.  “Time?”

“The time is 1 o’clock.”

“No . . . time!”

“What is it time for, mom?”

“To go .  . . ask Barb*”.  I knew immediately that mom was back worrying about God coming to get her.

“Mom, it is not time right now.”

“Ask Barb*!” 

Since Mom seemed uncomfortable in her own skin and would not be satisfied until we wheeled her back, we did just that.

I went to see Barb* at mom’s suggestion.  She told me, “Yesterday your mom said she has been waiting for four days and He’s not coming.  I told her He will come when He is ready for you.”

Barb* walked over to mom, “Gilda, try to relax.  Don’t worry.  God will come when He is ready.”

“I am ready.”

“We know, but try Gilda, try hard not to worry about it.”

Mom said, “Today!”

Barb said, “Do you think He’s coming today?”

Mom shook her head affirming, “Yes.”

“Gilda, I don’t think so . . . not today.”

Mom sighed, “Not today”.  Her body language showed huge disappointment. 

“Gilda, we have no indication that it will be today.  Don’t you like us?”

With that mom said, “Oh . . .  love . . . you.  You’re . . . good  . . .t’me.”

“Mom, do you know that the nurses on your station are called Guardian Angels?”

 

 

 

Mom shook her head that she did not know.

“You have two great nurses.  They are both good to you; we could not be happier with them.”

Mom agreed, “Yes . . . wonderful.  They . . . run . . . place.”

Smiling Barb* said, “Oh no, Gilda, we don’t want to run the place.  It would be too many headaches.”  Mom smiled.

I turned to Barb*, “You have two activity rooms in this area.  How do you determine who goes in the small activity room and who goes in the big activity room?”

“The residents who go in the small activity room come from the Caring Hearts wing,” she pointed to the entrance to a hallway called Caring Hearts.  I had never noticed the sign on that hallway before.

Barb* spoke again, “Those residents have final stage dementia.”

 “What is final stage dementia?”

“Those residents do not communicate at all. They just stare.”

Chills ran down my spine.  Could mom still have to go through final stage dementia?

Holding Back Tears

 

 

Hope for mom ever using her walker again is slim.  Dementia is crippling mom and stripping mom of any joy.  Her abilities have become so limited.    While Mom sits in her wheelchair even picking her head up is a chore.  Mom’s feet are so swollen that she is in a lot of pain when she stands. The doctor has increased mom’s lasix for the last three days; however there is no improvement in mom’s swollen legs.  Since I am unable to lift her on the toilet seat, helping her to the restroom is now not an option for me.

Mom seems uncomfortable in her own skin.  She said, “Can . . . do . . . anything . . . me?”

Trying to find a way to make mom more comfortable, I asked her if she would like me to rub her legs.  She shook her head no.  The nurse told me that she had to feed mom for both breakfast and lunch.  Mom could not hold anything in her hands today because they were too weak and shook too much.  Her mouth was also shaking more than ever and even drinking water through a straw takes much effort.

Mom continually tried to talk to me, but I had little luck understanding her.  Discouraged mom closed her eyes shaking her head. I laid my head on her lap to hold back the tears because there seems to be less and less I can do to make her comfortable.  When I looked up at mom, she said, “I know . . . you . . .  best . . . can.”

I gently held and stroked mom’s hands; they were calm and weak.  I raised mom’s hand to my lips and kissed her hands.  Mom sadly smiled and with all her energy she raised my hand to her lips and kissed my hand.

“Mom, I know you love me.”  She shook her head agreeing.

“Mom, I love you very much.  All of your children love you very much.”  She smiled,  “I  . . . know.”

Mom’s nurse, Billy*, came over and gave mom her pills, “Take them, Gilda, you will feel better in a little while.

Mom shook her need, “feel . . . no difference.”

Mom also questioned me, “Money . . .  pay . . .  help?”  I knew what she meant. 

“Mom, let’s pray.”  We prayed the ‘Our Father’ and ‘Mom is the Light’.  While I prayed these prayers out loud, Mom closed her eyes and tried hard to concentrate repeating what she could.  Praying still comforts mom even if only a temporary condition. 

After praying mom asked me to take her into the activity room with the other residents.  Shirley* the activity director saw us coming; she made room for mom at the head of her table.  She brought mom crayons and a few different coloring book pages. 
 

Out of the nine people who were around the table only three of them were trying to color, the others were starring or sleeping. Mom used to love to color.  In fact, mom was very talented artist as a teenager.  Mom looked at the selections, “Which one?” 

“Mom, I like this drawing of the Blessed Virgin with the Baby Jesus in her arms.”

 

Mom shrugged her shoulders, “What  . . . color?  I put a blue crayon in front of mom.  Mom initially thought coloring was a good idea, until she realized her hands were too limp to even hold a crayon. Angry and frustrated mom said, “Take me  . . . out!”

“Mom we could sit and watch Art Linkletter.”  A Christmas edition of the Art Linkletter Show was on television in the activity room. 

“No . . . out . . .there.”

I wheeled mom to the Christmas tree, we looked at it for a while and talked about Christmas growing up.  Mom said, “Enough.”

I moved mom near Billy’s* station and told Billy* that mom wanted to sit out there by her.  Billy* told me she would keep an eye on her. 

“They  . . .  ignore.”

“Mom, I do not thing they are trying to ignore you.  I think sometimes like me they do not understand you.”  Mom shook her head as though that is probably true.

When I hugged and kissed mom, she used all her strength to hug me back.  I wondered if she would be able to still blow kisses when I walked away and I was so happy that she could and did.