It’s been a while since I updated the world of Ridgeview on Mother, partly because I am a slacker, and partly because of the toll it has taken on me… not wanting to garner attention, I just want to be real when I describe the life of taking care of a person with dementia.
Violet’s Roses ⬆️
One of Mother’s prized possessions (or use to be) are the roses in front of her home. She dug and “dunged” them with the greatest of joy for decades. Her hind end was always up in the air as people passed by her house, to the point you’d think she was one of those wooden lady butt yard ornaments. I understand that somewhat, although I’m not quite as zealous at rose tendering as she was. But there is a therapeutic peace in gardening, just like there is a therapeutic peace in knowing that I am caring for her as she cared for me during my childhood years. And then there is the thorny bits.
The thorny bits are the day in and day out of watching her decline. Conversation topics are far more scarce, with repetitive times of remembering that her Mother passed away. She believes that when it happened nobody told her, that she was never ill and it was just last week. She does not remember that she herself took care of her Mother for a decade of dementia decline with far greater heartache than I have had with caring for her. Mother is still mobile, although she is weaker day by day and feeding her is like feeding a picky toddler. Nothing tastes the same to her. Salty and sweet will create a sudden appetite when nothing healthy will, so I accommodate as much as I can by baking tasty treats which she always approves of with gratitude and my waistline grows because I need to help her eat it. Vanilla macadamia cookies are on the counter with lemon supreme on the menu for later this week. Possibly fried chicken for supper tonight. Along with the roses, the kitchen is an all day delight of running one meal into the other, fill the dishwasher, empty the dishwasher, wipe off the counters and pick up every crumb out of the floor, because if not, Mother is going to eventually end up on her head as she sees and retrieves every speck of dust and crumb of cookie off the floor like an eagle in a field of critters! Her sight is amazing!
A week or so ago, I had a weekend of spiraling into a pit of depression I could not dig my way out of with a shovel. It began when Mother got upset with me (which is rare) for redoing something she was sure she had already done. She had not. I was sweeping the living room, and I just really needed to get it done… it’s a thing… I don’t know why. So when she told me she had done it, I just kept going. Then she informed me I had called her liar and told anyone she could that day that I was. It was silly. But it broke my heart and started me into a woe is me attitude. My sister Sarah came in and spent a couple of days with her, just enough to let me breathe a breath of relief and clean my house. Of course David did not care that I swept his floor… and I am sure he hadn’t done it.
This Chronicle may have been more about me… but the mindset has taken its toll on Ridgeview and I guess I needed to vent a little. Thank you for listening. And if you’re in your own “state of mind” from taking helping to care of family or life in general, know that you’re not alone. And if you need, send me a message, I’d love to hear from you.
