For someone who prays the Good Lord comes on and gets her, Mom sure doesn’t seem to want to go alone. I’m sure she is trying to worry the life out of me so I will have no choice but to go with her.
I know that getting old, which is suppose to be a walk into paradise, has plenty of rocks in the path. Although Mom suffers from arthritis, she will not give up on pushing and pulling her furniture around the room. She is also constantly pulling her clothes in and out of the drawers trying to rearrange them. For some unknown reason, she insist on her underclothes being under the bed in a suitcase or sometimes a bag while the drawers for them remain empty. I am baffled as to why but there is absolutely no chance of reasoning. I try to make her understand that all that motion reeks havoc on the arthritis but Mom is stubborn, always has been and will be until “The Good Lord comes to get her.
Lately, she has been more irritated than usual but I can understand since the rainy days hinder her from her time in the sun. She has always been an outdoors person.
She has been especially ill with me lately. It seems that whatever I do, it is wrong. As I was fixing her meds for the week, she didn’t hesitate to get her plug in, “I hope you’re not putting something in there to kill me.”
I tried to ignore her comment and assured her that I wouldn’t do that. If she could have read my thoughts, she would have probably made one of her desperate SOS calls to my sisters.
Sometimes I feel like a person with multiple personalities. I assume that’s what you call someone who is thinking one thing but something nicer is coming out their mouth. I was awakened at 3:15 this morning by Donny saying she was sitting at the table with the blood pressure machine. As I walked in the kitchen, there she sat eating a raisin cake and drinking ginger ale with the bp machine around her arm. After reassuring her that it was fine, she handed me ‘The Link’ and wanted me to read the obituaries to her. I think she felt much better after I told her their ages, several being in their upper nineties.
“People sure are living longer lives, aren’t they?” Yes, Mom, I thought, but it’s sure not the ‘baby boomers’.
As I was helping her get up to go back to bed, she observed Donny’s iPhone on the table. “You might as well throw that thing away. He never answers it and every time I call it, it says, the mailbox is full. You know blame well, we get the mail out of the box every day. It don’t know nothing!”
It’s 5:00 now, I couldn’t go back to sleep and I am thanking my Good Lord that Debbie is coming to stay with her today. I desperately need a day to myself because my mailbox is full!
