It's the morning after the nursing home Thanksgiving dinner. I'm wondering if the high carb meal we had will successfully pass through my system or will it just migrate to my thighs?
At least my meal wasn't pureed. Picture your Thanksgiving dinner in a blender... ahhhh...green bean casserole, turkey, dressing. Seconds anyone?
Mom and I have been doing this for seven years. This year was a little different. She looked at me pleasantly and said, "You look familiar." Stop right now if you are going to say "poor baby" and ask me how that makes me feel. I know you are all sensitive souls, but let me reassure you that this is better than the way it used to be. She doesn't complain any more about imaginary illnesses, and she doesn't know that she has no short term memory. She loves the people who take care of her so if she thinks I'm just a nice, slightly familiar person who comes to visit her, that's fine with me.
Oh yes, mom is 89, soon to be 90 and she's in better shape now than she was a year ago. Anyone else out there afraid their parents will live longer than them? Her nursing home is full of ladies in their 90's whose daughters drag their arthritic bodies there for visits. The mothers still rag on them and order them around. That's why I'm not horribly upset about my mother's lack of recognition. Being an only child, I've paid my dues when it comes to taking the brunt of parental interference. I'm just a friendly visitor. My record is wiped clean. Mom doesn't remember the things I did when I was younger. I'm off the hook forever.
Enough about me. How are the rest of you doing with the aging parent scenario? The sandwich generation metaphor isn't accurate. Sometimes it's more like two elevator doors slamming in on both sides of you. Having teenagers and elderly parents at the same time is not for the weak of spirit. I made it through without medication, so can you.
I still have the Christmas party at the nursing home to look forward to. I'll be sure to share the pictures.
