All Smiles

 

 

On Friday, I found mom to be quite happy and comfortable.  She was quite surprised that I stopped with Lonza and Italian bread for lunch. 

“I thought we ate all of it,” mom questioned.

“Mom, I had a little piece left.  I was not sure that there would be enough for another lunch together.”

I wheeled mom into our semi-private lunch room and set up our table.  When I went to the main lunch room for her silverware and her drink, I informed them that I had brought lunch for mom. 

Lauren* said, “I think your mom is going to want to eat what we are having here today, too.  So I’ll surprise her when they bring the food in I will bring her some.”

While enjoying the lonza together mom stated, “What a treat!”

After we were finished eating the lonza, Lauren* came in with a tray for mom.  When she lifted up the tray cover, five good size fried shrimp were on the plate.  Mom’s face lighted up, “Wow, Julienne,  help  me  . . . eat them.”

“I am not really hungry anymore, mom.”

“You shared with me; now I’m sharing with you.”

I could not debate mom’s logic; whether I was hungry or not was not important in her eyes.  Eating the shrimp together was what she saw as important.  So we ate every last one.

Dana* came by and spent some time with us showing photos of her daughter’s twins.  Mom loved seeing the baby photos. 

After I cleaned up our table and put everything back where they belonged, Rosalee*, the chaplain,  came by for a visit.  “We were just about to pray, Rosalee*.  Would you like to join us?” I asked.

Mom jumped in, “Ohhh  . . .  she loves to pray.”

Rosalee* smiled, “Yes, I do.”

Mom extended her hands out for us to hold hands. We made a three-way circle of prayer.  As we said ‘The Our Father’ I could see that mom was staring at my lips as though she was reading the words from my lips and saying them.  After we finished mom injected, “How about the short one?” 

I explained to Rosalee* that mom likes this special prayer we call ‘Mom is the Light’.  Rosalee said, “Ok, I’ll follow along.”

I recited our special prayer and they both repeated each line: 

Mom is the Light.
The Light is within mom. 
The Light moves throughout mom.
The Light surrounds mom.
The Light protects mom.
The Light gives mom peace.
Jesus is the Light.
Mom is the Light.

 

Rosalee* said, “Very nice.”

 

“I like it, but I don’t remember the words by myself,” mom commented.

 

“If you want, Julienne, I will wheel your mom to the activity room.  I would like to spend a little more time with her,” said Darlene*.

 

“Sounds like a good idea.  What do you think, mom?”

 

“Yes, you have been here a long time.”

 

I hugged and kissed mom.  Mom said, “Another nice day.”

 

“You are right, mom. We had another great day together.”

 

We blew kisses.  Rosalee* had a warm smile on her face and said, “God bless you both.”

 



May I Be Candid?

 

When I left The Community* on Sunday, mom’s situation seemed to be getting on the right track even though mom was still missing pillows and some nightgowns. 

 

 

I decided to leave a message for the Administrator and asked her to call me on Monday.  A few weeks ago we just had a care meeting where I praised The Community* for the care mom was receiving.  Since then a ridiculous amount of negative events have occurred:  mom’s medication was decreased; her mattress was changed; mom fell out of bed; her button has not worked;  they have put mom in hospital gowns to sleep because her many nightgowns are missing; her regular nurse left for six weeks; her pillows were missing; and the latest ant episode. 

Mom’s care meetings are every couple months and waiting till the next meeting did not seem to be a good idea when they can and should correct any problems as they happen.  Top management must know that things are slipping.

Donna* called me and listened carefully to all the issues mom has faced.  She was apologetic and told me she would try to locate mom’s pillows and the rest of her nightgowns.  She would also investigate all the other problems mom had. 

Later that day Donna* called me back, The Community* had already located another one of mom’s pillows and another nightgown.  She had spoken to the Head of Nursing who was looking into the other issues.

Donna* thanked me and let me know that reporting issues are important for the level of care that they want all their residents to receive.  My intention of making the decision to call Donna* was to improve mom’s care, but I believe by informing Donna* the quality of care for all residents will improve. 

 

Shopping with a Purpose

 

Sunday morning I was on a mission to buy mom some new nightgowns and bring them over to her.  This is not as easy as one would think because of the time of year almost all nightgowns now are sleeveless or cap sleeves.  After going to three stores, I finally found two light gray long sleeved gowns with white flowers.

Upon signing in at reception desk, I saw Lori* again and asked her if I could please have someone from laundry label these nightgowns before I left so I could make sure mom would receive them back prior to bedtime. 

Lori* mentioned that after I left yesterday, maintenance handled the ant problem.  She told me to check when I went up to mom’s room and if mom still had ants to let her know immediately. 

Luckily mom’s room was ant free.  Additionally when I looked in mom’s drawers, I found two other nightgowns that made their way back home after the search party yesterday.

Looking for mom, she was not in her room, or around the nurses’ station or in the activity room so I asked where she could be.  I was told that she went walking with her friend, Darlene* and Darlene’s* daughter.  Although mom is in a wheelchair her footrests are off right now so she can maneuver slowly but surely down the hall.  As I came out of the activity room, I looked down the hall at Darlene’s* room and there was mom speaking to both of them.

“She told me your daughter is here,” mom said.  “But I told her you were just here yesterday.”

“I bought you some new nightgowns.”  I pulled them out of the bag to show her.

 

“Julienne, they’re pretty,” mom smiled.

“Mom, I am so happy you like them.”

 “How’s everything today?”

“Better,” mom said.

“Thank God.”

“You’re dressed up, where you going?”

“I am going to a friend’s father’s memorial service.”

“You better leave; don’t be late.”  Mom thoughtfully said.  She was a million times better today.  She had slept in her nightgown last night. 

I insisted that we check her room together before I go.  Mom agreed.  Everything looked good; no unwanted visitors crawling around.

 “You look so nice today, mom, how about if I take a photo?”

 

“Some person told me I have beautiful eyes.”

“They’re right.”  I took the photo and showed her, “Look, mom, you are beautiful.”

Today I left feeling much better than yesterday.  Mom had a calmness about herself.  She knew her needs were now being met again. 

Bad Streak Not Acceptable

 

Upsetting is the word I would use to describe my feelings this week.  After the last two visits both which uncovered several mishaps at The Community*, I was called that laundry department had found some of mom’s night gowns.  Unfortunately, the streak continued on Saturday, when I stopped to see mom before attending a bridal shower.

 

Mom saw me and shook her head in frustration.

 

“What’s up, mom?”

 

Mom was tired; although her thoughts seemed clear, her speech is not. “Hospital gown  . . .  again last night.” 

 

“That’s not acceptable, mom.   I thought they found your nightgowns.”

 

“Two,” mom confirmed.  “Julienne . . .  take me  . . . room.”

 

I searched mom’s drawers only to find that mom was right. 

“I am not sure what’s been happening here lately, but I do not want you sleeping in a hospital gown. Mom, I will go shopping and bring you more nightgowns.  ”

“Don’t spend a lot of money,” mom commented.

 

“Mom, I just want you to be warm and comfortable.  I know you like long sleeves.”

 

“Yes . . .  make sure . . .  long sleeves.”

 

Mom’s skin is thin. Even wearing a warm top and sweater, she is sometimes still chilled.  I am so angry and sad to think mom is wearing a hospital gown which is paper thin to begin with when she goes to bed.

 

Mom is still complaining that no one answers when she presses her button at night. So I pressed the button and stepped outside her room to see that her light did go on.  I looked at my watch; I wanted to see how long the response time would be on a Saturday. 

 

In the meantime, mom said, “Check my pillows.”

 

Mom should have three of her own pillows.  Although three pillows were on her bed only one was hers.  I checked her roommates’ pillows just in case they were switched by accident; however mom’s was not to be found.  The oddity is that everything must be labeled that we bring in so somewhere mom’s pillows enveloped by white pillowcases are lying on another resident’s bed.

 

“Mom, only one of the pillows is yours.”

 

“I know; now  . . .   you believe me?” mom said frustrated.

 

“Mom, I always believe you.” 

 

As I looked over mom’s shoulder at her dresser, I saw something small moving.  My vision is not the sharpest so I looked closer and found mom’s room had unwanted visitors: tiny ants.  Initially I thought maybe there was one or two so I killed them as I found them.  But as I continued to move things around on the top of her dresser I encountered several more.  So I dialed the reception desk and spoke with Lori*; shared our ant problem and asked for maintenance to come up to take care of our undesirable situation.

 

Just then a cleaning person who overheard my conversation wanted to see the problem.  When I showed her, she said, “Yes, you have ants.  I’ll be right back with something.”   No one still had come to see why mom’s light was on.  As I started investigating, I saw ants not only on mom’s dresser, but on her roommate’s dresser.

 

The cleaning person came back shortly with her cart as promised.  She started to spray and wipe the furniture, I made sure to show her both dressers and the unwanted guests.  While she was cleaning, our first person, Kevin*, showed up to ask why the light was on.  The ironic thing is that Kevin* had just arrived to start work for the day and was passing by to put his stuff away.  I mentioned all the problems:  missing nightgowns, missing pillows, and ants. 

 

“I took care of ants,” the cleaning lady stated. 

“Your bug spray has no smell.  What kind do you use?”

 

“No bug spray just cleaner to remove anything sticky to get rid of ants.”

I turned to Kevin*, “I think we need bug spray.  I did not feel anything sticky.”

 

He assured me after he checked in he would be back.   A few moments after he left, a nurse came in to check on light.  I shared all the occurrences this morning.  She promised to call laundry to find pillows and nightgowns.  As I was talking to her, I noticed more ants on the floor.  I showed her.  She promised me she would call maintenance, too.  I informed her that I had the receptionist call them now over 45 minutes ago.  I was frustrated, but I assured mom that I would make things right for her.

 

On my way out as I passed the front reception Lori said, “Did maintenance take care of your mom’s room?”

“Still waiting for them; we still have not seen anyone with bug spray.”

 

“I called them over an hour ago.  I’ll call them again.”

 

As I left for my shower, I was concerned whether mom’s problems would be addressed properly.  No one seems to have answers at least not the right ones.   

 

 

 

Mother Knows Best

 

 

Taking mom at her word is of utmost importance. 

When I saw mom on Monday, she told me that she peed in bed because no one came when she pressed her button.  Mom said, “Julienne, I keep telling them I pressed the button.  Can you check it?”

Dana* saw us speaking and came over to say hello.  “Would you please come with us to check mom’s call button? Mom says it does not work.”



I wheeled mom over to her room. Mom went in with Dana* to press the button while I stayed out to see if the light popped on.  Mom was right.



“I knew it,” Mom said.  “I told them, but no one believed me.”

“Mom,  let me know anytime you have a problem.  I am happy to help you. We will stay in your room until your call button works.”

Dana* called mom’s nurse who in turn called the maintenance man, Dave.  He came up and fixed the call button.  Mom and I did not leave her room until this situation was eliminated.

While we were in mom’s room, she said, “Check my drawers, Julienne, my nightgowns are missing.”

I immediately went over to mom drawers where I keep her nightgowns.   Again, mom was correct.  “How long have your nightgowns been missing?”

“Last night they could not find any.”

“What did you sleep in, mom?”

“Something that was opened in the back,” mom complained.

“That is not acceptable.  You have warm nightgowns. Mom, I will take care of this right now.”

I spoke with both Dana* and mom’s staffing nurse to let them know I was not happy.  The nurse said she would contact the laundry department and find out what was up.  I mentioned that mom has five nightgowns.  I find the situation difficult to believe that all five needed to be laundered at the same time. 

The nurse told us that laundry would need to look for them.  I gave her a description of all the missing nightgowns and she would make sure mom had at least one of them for tonight. 

 

The time was 11:45am and most of the residents were in the lunch room eating.   I wheeled mom  to her dining table so she could join her friends to eat.  After I put mom's terry cloth bib on, Lauren* greeted mom, "Gilda, today is your lucky day.  We are serving chicken wings  . . .  your favorite."  Mom grabbed one right away before I could take a photo of her three wings.

 

 

Indeed, today was mom's lucky day . . .  someone believed her.

Today I seemed to hug mom tighter than ever.  I felt so bad for her that she had problems that she needed me to take care of for her.  “Thank you, mom, for helping me  help you.  Always remember that is why I am here. I want you to know that you can tell me anything.” 

 

Mom smiled.   Mom was relieved to know that someone was listening.  More important was that someone believed her and looked into her problems.

As I passed mom’s room, I decided to take a photo of the lights on the outside of her room; Mom’s doctor saw me and said, “Is the light not working?”

I explained how mom had said she peed in bed the last few nights because her light was not working and when I checked her light mom was right.

 

 

Mom’s doctor was angry.  He handed me his business card with his answering service number and said, “Any time your mom complains, call me and I will handle her complaint immediately.”  As we were speaking, the head of nurses was walking down the hall towards us.  The doctor said, “Tell her what happened to Gilda.”   So I did.  She was deeply concerned and thanked me for letting her know.  She was glad mom's button worked and she assured me she would make sure mom’s nightgowns were found.

Being an advocate for a loved one's healthcare is of utmost importance. The role of an advocate is to listen, believe, care, and take necessary action to insure their loved one's comfort.

As I left once again I thought, “My, oh my, what does an aging person do without an advocate?”  Makes me sad to think about them. 

 

Life is Good Again

 

On Wednesday morning, Ron and I were worried about one of our pups, Mr. B., Baci, Baci Boy, we have so many names for him.  Ron was taking him to the animal hospital to have several biopsies done.  His sweet little body has suffered from major allergies all his life.  Unfortunately, he is now having several different types of growths attacking his body and even with all the medication, ointments and steroids we are having a hard time controlling their growths and his itchiness.  Hence the reason for the biopsies, we want to make sure we are treating whatever he has properly.  Our goal is to make Mr. B as comfortable as possible for as long as we can.

 

I share the info about our little guy so you know that we were already worried about one of our family members, when I received a phone call at 7:30AM from The Community* to make me aware that mom had fallen out of bed last night.  I was informed that mom was OK and she had not hurt herself.  However after mom fell out of bed at Midnight, she refused to go back in bed.   So they allowed her to sleep in a recliner for the rest of the evening next to the nurses’ station.  Before hanging up I asked the aide to please let mom know that she called me  and that I would be coming to see her.

 

When I arrived, mom said, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me, too, mom, how are you feeling?”

 

“I’m sore.  Take me to my room; I want to show you what happened.”

 

I wheeled mom to her bedroom.  She showed me that she has a different bed.  Mom used to have a normal mattress, but in the last week they decided to change mom’s mattress to an inflatable one that apparently has a security rim around the mattress when it is inflated properly.  Mom is frail and an inflatable mattress cuddles her more, but mom does not like the feeling she has lying there.

 

“Julienne, lay on the bed, I want to show you.”

 

So I lay on the bed.  I have to admit the bed seemed a little slippery. In addition, a section of the bed was not inflating properly leaving an opening. 

Of course Murphy’s Law, when mom turned in her sleep she must have found that opening and slid right off the bed.

 

 

“Julienne, I turned in the middle of the night and I slid right off the bed.  I started screaming ‘help me help me’ as loud as I could but no one heard me.  I couldn’t stop myself from falling.”   Mom does not have a lot of energy and although she was angry and telling me her situation I knew that mom’s voice could not be heard even to the edge of her own room.

 

“Did you push the nurses’ button for help?”

 

“I tried; I couldn’t reach it.”

 

“I waited for hours on the floor crying.”

 

I contacted Dana* and the assistant to the nurses, Kim*.  I asked them to come to mom’s room.  I explained what mom just told me.  I learned that mom did not have to push a button to get assistance; when she slid off her bed the nurses’ station was immediately notified that mom is getting out of her bed.  

 

Although I felt reassured that mom did not wait for hours, regardless Mom lying on a cold hard floor had to be extremely uncomfortable for any length of time.  I am sure even 5 minutes seemed like forever in mom’s situation. 

 

Kim* said, “I was told that when your mom fell she took the pillow with to comfort the fall.”

 

Mom spoke up, “I pulled the pillow down after I fell.”  Mom was of sound and clear mind, but she was angry and anxious.

 

I turned to both Dana* and Kim*, “I want mom’s evening medications to go back to what had been working beautifully and making her feel good.  Do you both notice that mom’s extremely anxious today?”

 

They both shook their heads that they agreed.

 

“Believe me I have seen her depression and anxiety when her meds are wrong or tampered with; life is not pleasant for mom or anyone around her.  How can we help mom?”

 

Kim piped up, “I know your mom well and you’re right her personality has changed with the medication change.  I will call her psychiatrist and let him know her reaction to the medicine change immediately.”

 

“Without the proper medication especially at bedtime mom may become restless.  I want her to sleep soundly so she can wake up feeling as good as possible.  We all feel better with a good night sleep.  Mom is no different.”

 

 

Mom piped up, “I refuse to ever sleep in that bed again.” 

 

Kim* said, “The bed frame is the same; the mattress is what is different.”

 

“Kim* can we please give my mom a normal mattress again?  I know that The Community* made the decision to give her the inflatable bed for her comfort, but mom doe not like the inflatable bed.”

 

“I can change to the mattress, but you will need to sign that is what you what us to do,” Kim* stated.

 

I looked at mom and said, “Mom, would you be happy if we changed your bed to a  regular mattress?”

“Yes, I won’t sleep here otherwise.”

 

“Where do I sign?”

 

I followed Kim* to the nurses’ station and signed the proper paperwork. 

 

 

 “Kim*,  when you call the doctor could you please ask him to give mom something right now that will take the edge off for her; ideally, one or both of the reduced medicines ?”

 

I waited with Kim* until she received approval for mom’s bedtime medicine to be reinstated, as well as, a small dose of anxiety medicine right now. 

 

Kim* had mom’s new nurse bring her the medication.  When I say ‘new’ nurse, she is a staffing nurse that comes in to fill in when a regular nurse is unable to be there for whatever reason: vacation, leave of absence, maternity.  I managed a professional staffing office for many years and totally understand the need for supplemental staffing.

 

Mom initially questioned the additional medication because mom is very adept and knows she does not normally receive medication at this time of day.  I assured mom that I had requested the medication.  I promised her that she would feel better before I left if she would take the medication now.

 

The nurse put mom’s pill in apple sauce since the size of the pill was so small.

 

“Apple sauce is sour.  I can take pills by themselves with water,” mom said.

 

“Sorry I didn’t know.  I thought this would make it easier to swallow.  I already mushed the pill up so you will need to swallow the applesauce to receive all the medication.”

 

Mom agreed but asked, “Could I have some water, too?”

 

The staffing nurse wanting to be accommodating went off to bring back a Styrofoam cup of water for mom.    When she handed the water to her mom said, “Where’s my straw?”

 

Being new the staffing nurse did not realize that mom needs a straw to drink from any cup.  Mom has severe hand and mouth tremors. In addition, she was not notified that mom needs someone to hold the cup and straw so she could drink without spilling all over herself.  Fortunately, I relayed the information to her and she was only too happy to help mom.

 

Unfortunately mom’s regular day nurse whom mom adores will be out of the country due to a family emergency for a long period of time.  I have confidence that The Community* will make sure everything runs smoothly and I will keep checking.

 

Later that morning, I saw Dave*, who has helped mom on many occasions, going into her bedroom with a regular mattress.   Mom and I were still with Dana*near the nurses’ station.  “Dave is changing your mattress.  Mom, you will be able to sleep well tonight.”

 

“Take me there; I want to see my bed.”

We waited till Dave* came out from her room.  “Ok, mom, we can go Dave* is finished.”

 

Mom looked down the hall as Dave* was walking away and spoke as loud as she could, “Dave, Dave.”  He turned around and stopped to look at mom.  “Thank you for helping me.”  Dave* smiled and waved. 

 

Dana* wheeled mom into her room, mom’s smile brightened as she saw as regular mattress. 

 

Mom put her hands together pointing to God just as I was taught when I was young and said,   “Thank you, God, for hearing my prayers.”

 

I smiled at Dana* and said, “Life is good again  . . .   right mom?”

 

Mom said, “Oh, Yes!”

 

Everyone meant well.  Regarding the medication the medical team just did not want mom to take medicine she might not need anymore.  I understand and that makes perfect sense.  Concern not to have patients over-medicated is a real one for rehab facilities.  Each person’s body chemistry is unique and decisions have to be made on a case by case basis.  Mom has never been over medicated; she has been receiving exactly what she needs to feel good.  Thankfully we are all in agreement.

 

The Community* is always looking out for mom’s best interest as they try for all their residents.  Being an advocate for mom is an important job that I take seriously.  And during mom’s last chapter, my goal is to make mom’s life as pleasant as possible for her.

 

Special note:  On Friday, I received a call from Dana*saying, “Your mom is so happy.  She says she loves her new bed.”  And to that I say “Life is good again  . . .  Thank you, Jesus.

 



Overliving . . . Say What?

 

When I saw mom today, I started off by asking mom for a special favor.   

Mom responded, “Julienne, anything.” 

 

 

“A special friend’s daughter is having surgery tomorrow; her daughter has been very sick.   I mentioned that you and I would pray for her daughter’s surgery goes well.  Would you mind if we offer our prayers up for her today?” 

 

 

“I can’t pray without you.  I don’t remember the words.” 

“You can repeat what I say.” 

I wheeled mom over to a chair so I could sit and hold her hands while we prayed.  Once I began mom joined me saying the prayer right along with me.  She had not forgotten the words.  After we finished praying the ‘Our Father’, mom looked up and said, “Was that good?”

 
I nodded and said, “Very good, mom, thank you.” 

Just then Dana* walked over to say hello.  She had some good news for us, “Your mom seems to be doing well.  Her doctor has lowered two of her medications.  He has cut her anxiety medication and her sleeping pill.” 

My response was one of shock and concern, “Why would he do that when mom has been doing so well?” 

“It is a state law that when a person in mom’s condition starts feeling better we try to reduce those types of medications. If she responds poorly, he will prescribe them again.  He is always trying to make sure that residents are not over medicated.” 

“I am highly concerned about mom becoming anxious.” 

“The good news is that he decreased her medication over a week ago; no one has noticed any change in her condition.” 

Mom said, “Stopping some of my medications:  Is that good or bad?” 

Dana* piped up immediately, “That’s good, really good. Gilda, it means you are doing well enough you might not need as much medication.” 

“What’s the deal; how can I get better?”

 

 



“I am not sure myself;  I do not think anyone here has an answer.”   

“Are you ok with this?” Mom asked me. 

“Mom, of course, I am ok with this.  I want you to feel good every day.”

“Are people back home confused why I am still alive?” 

“I am certain they are happy you are feeling better." 

 “Julienne, am I over-living?” 

“What do you mean over-living?” 

“I was supposed to die a long time ago.” 

“Mom, we do not know what God has planned for us in the future.  Just enjoy each day God gives you.” 

“So I’ll just wait for Him,” mom said so seriously. 

“Good idea, mom.”

 

 

 

 

 





Making One Memory at a Time

 

Yesterday mom felt special that Jamie and I were there together to have lunch with her.  She had previously put in her request for more lonza and I had promised to honor her request.  Since Jamie was in St. Louis for Easter, I wanted to spend some quality time with him and I know mom felt the same way.  Sharing lonza with Jamie and Mom seemed the perfect way to accomplish this goal.

 

Jamie and I arrived minutes of each other and headed up to see mom, she was happy to see us both.   We set up a table in the smaller more private lunch room on the second floor and wheeled mom in.  Jamie suggested to mom that she might want to sit in the sun as mom tends to always be cold. She agreed and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her back. 

 

As usual Al* was there feeding his wife at ‘their’ table. He is there three times a day seven days a week.  I would describe Al* as humble, loving, gentle and kind husband.  No matter how many times I see them together, I feel moved by his love and dedication to his wife.

 

Mom, Jamie and I feasted on the lonza the way we always did by placing a few slices of lonza on a slice of Italian bread.  The lonza has such a distinctive taste we would not want to ruin or hide the flavor by adding any type of condiment like we would put on a ham sandwich. I was brought up not really considering lonza to be sandwich material as even a tomato or lettuce would disrupt the wonderful taste. We each seemed to savor every bite.  I also brought some cheese to eat with the bread like we had done so many times before.

 

 



 

Having lonza together brought back wonderful memories of sitting around our kitchen table when we were kids eating our favorite Italian delicacy.

 

While we were eating, mom said, “How do you think I look?  Does this outfit go together?”

 

“No, mom, your top is blue and black and your sweater is black with several shades of gold.”

 

“I knew it.  I told the aide, but she still put it on me.”

 

“When we are done eating, we will go and switch your top sweater to your solid black one.”

 

 

Mom agreed nodding her head approvingly.

 

I grabbed my phone and took a snapshot of mom and Jamie.  Mom said, “Get someone to take all three of us.”

 

 

I stepped out and found Dana* at the nurses’ station.  She gladly took our photo.

 



 

As promised after we finished eating, we wheeled mom to her room.  While Jamie was assisting mom with her sweater, I was straightening her closet.

 

“The aide is always complaining that my roommates’ closets are messy,” mom commented. 

 

“Maybe they do not have someone who organizes their closets and hangs up their clothes.”

 

“They don’t.  I tell them my daughter does mine.”

 

“I try to put things that coordinate together to make it easy for your aides to choose clothes that match for you.”

 

“They just pick something and put it on me.”

 

“I know they can be in a hurry that is why I organize your closet each time I visit.”

 

 

Mom wanted the Virgin Mary‘s picture (Aunt Jay had given her) moved so she can look at her photo. 

 

When mom had initially seen us, she showed me that one of her fingernails had a rough edge so I filed her nail until her nail's edge was smooth.   She also wanted some hand lotion massaged into her hands.  Someone once mentioned that a gentle hand massage is one of the nicest gestures that an elderly can truly enjoy.  This gesture comforts both the receiver and the giver.

Prior to us leaving mom said, “I ask the Lord to bless my family and keep them all safe.”

 

“A perfect prayer, mom,” Jamie stated.

 

Staying on the subject mom commented, “God forgive us our sins.”

 

 

“How true, mom, we all need forgiveness.”

 

Jamie and I hugged and kissed mom, she responded, “What would I do without my kids?”

 

“Mom, you don’t have to worry.  We’re here.” I said.

Mom smiled and blew us kisses.