My work schedule has changed so I am frequently up by 4 am now and out the door by 5. It sounds horrendous but really isn't that bad once you get used to it. This also happens to coincide with my mom's schedule of using the restroom so as I am getting ready I will see a little old lady appear at the door.
It's the same everyday... "can I come in, I have to pee."
"Of course you can come in." My mom shuffles forward then stops and says "I need a hug." So we hug and she hangs on for dear life. "I don't think I can let go" she always says. "Well if you're going to pee you HAVE to let go eventually." " I know, but I don't want to." Fair enough.
She uses the restroom and washes her hands. She is very good about the handwashing because it is routine now, which took us several months of training to accomplish. At first her response was "Why, I never pee on my hands." " Wash them anyway, you get no hugs if you don't wash your hands." She considered it a fair trade.
On her way out she always stops and says "I need a hug." "You just had a hug." Sometimes I get impatient because I am trying to get ready for work and get out the door. But her blue eyes and outstretched arms settle the matter. Another hug, and I realize that these moments will go away someday. She will stop asking for hugs and I will be devastated then. I will mourn the loss of hugs and the loss of her connection to me. I don't know what that will look like, but I am pretty certain that I won't like it.
The truth is, I need a hug too. And I am going to take them as long as she will give them to me.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
When he said Dip I thought he said Sip
So here's another church story. Couple of Sundays ago was a good day for church. First Sunday back to the normal fall schedule, new Sunday School classes, confirmation breakfast for me and my covenant partner (a young person going through confirmation class), and a communion Sunday.
We pick a seat at the very back in case my mom has to go to the bathroom, starts throwing a hissy fit, or otherwise needs to step out. Service is going swimmingly, except my mom can no longer read so she pretends to look at the hymnal and moves her mouth, trying to anticipate the words. She also pretends to read the bulletin and follow along, but every 5 seconds she asks Jesse, "ok, where are we now" and he has to point to the part of the bulletin that applies. She speaks in a "whisper" that really is a normal speaking voice, adding some breathiness to it so she thinks she is whispering. I can see the people in front of us moving their heads as far to the side as they can without really turning around, trying to see who is talking.
Before her Alzheimers became obvious, before the night of the "crisis" that took her out of her home and into a facility, there were signs. I just didn't see them. Momentary lapses and confusion that were infrequent so I attributed them to fatigue or preoccupation. We all have those moments right? It doesn't mean we are going to develop Alzheimers. One such incident occurred years ago at church. My mom was with us, which didn't happen very often because Presbyterians don't sing the "good hymns." But there she was, making the best of it... UNTIL communion time. This particular Sunday we passed the elements down the row rather than going up to the front of the church. As you pass the bread you turn to the next person and say "this is the body of Christ broken for you" and then the person next to you takes the plate and does the same thing and so on down the row. Ditto for the wine. Clear instructions are in the bulletin, the pastor goes explains it verbally before distributing the elements, and if you just watch all the 87 people who have just done it before you then you can pretty much mimic it. Unless you are MaMere...
As the plate comes to our row I tell her to get ready. "What the hell am I getting ready for? I'm not an idiot." I turn to her with the plate, "Mom, this is the body of Christ broken for you." She takes a piece of bread and JUST SITS THERE. "Mom, you have to pass this to the person next to you and say what I just said." "What? Well hell, let me get my glasses out." "You don't need glasses, just say the same thing I just said." "Oh hell you know I can't remember that without my glasses. Apparently glasses improve memory. (this is why I told her to get READY) She moves in slow motion, digging in her purse for glasses, and finally pulls them out. She puts them on with all the drama of a person who is about to see for the first time. "OK, what am I supposed to do." "Mom, offer the plate to the person next to you and say "this is the body of Christ broken for you. That's it." "Well isn't it written down someWHERE on the bulletin?" "YES, but I just told you what to say, so just say it." No one behind us can get communion until this comedy of errors plays out. She ignores me and starts looking in the bulletin for the written instructions. After eons of time and my mom mouthing the words to herself I finally raise my voice, "Just say the sentence I told you, JUST SAY IT AND PASS THE PLATE!" My mother has the nerve to look genuinely surprised and yells "STOP RUSHING ME!"
.
She finally pulls it together and gets the plate on its way down the row. Crisis averted, UNTIL.... someone decided that it was time to pass the wine... "This is the blood of Christ poured out for your sins." Take two........ The organist just keeps playing the same music over and over because my mom has delayed so long that his carefully chosen hymn has ended so he just keeps starting over and keeps playing.... and playing...
This was one of the "shots across the bow" that I should've known meant something was coming.
So now we are back at last Sunday's communion and the process has changed. This time we are taking communion by intinction, dip the bread into the wine. This should be easier for her so we head to the front of the church. She takes a piece of bread and puts it in her mouth. Then she reaches for the goblets and attempts to take it from the elder serving communion. A tug of war ensues and I try to intervene before one of us ends up wearing the wine, The elder says, "it's ok, you can get another piece of bread so you can dip it." My mom waves her arms at the elder and says, "I just had about all the Jesus I need." She waves away the goblet and starts shuffling back to her seat. She really does love Jesus, she just forgot for a minute.
We pick a seat at the very back in case my mom has to go to the bathroom, starts throwing a hissy fit, or otherwise needs to step out. Service is going swimmingly, except my mom can no longer read so she pretends to look at the hymnal and moves her mouth, trying to anticipate the words. She also pretends to read the bulletin and follow along, but every 5 seconds she asks Jesse, "ok, where are we now" and he has to point to the part of the bulletin that applies. She speaks in a "whisper" that really is a normal speaking voice, adding some breathiness to it so she thinks she is whispering. I can see the people in front of us moving their heads as far to the side as they can without really turning around, trying to see who is talking.
Before her Alzheimers became obvious, before the night of the "crisis" that took her out of her home and into a facility, there were signs. I just didn't see them. Momentary lapses and confusion that were infrequent so I attributed them to fatigue or preoccupation. We all have those moments right? It doesn't mean we are going to develop Alzheimers. One such incident occurred years ago at church. My mom was with us, which didn't happen very often because Presbyterians don't sing the "good hymns." But there she was, making the best of it... UNTIL communion time. This particular Sunday we passed the elements down the row rather than going up to the front of the church. As you pass the bread you turn to the next person and say "this is the body of Christ broken for you" and then the person next to you takes the plate and does the same thing and so on down the row. Ditto for the wine. Clear instructions are in the bulletin, the pastor goes explains it verbally before distributing the elements, and if you just watch all the 87 people who have just done it before you then you can pretty much mimic it. Unless you are MaMere...
As the plate comes to our row I tell her to get ready. "What the hell am I getting ready for? I'm not an idiot." I turn to her with the plate, "Mom, this is the body of Christ broken for you." She takes a piece of bread and JUST SITS THERE. "Mom, you have to pass this to the person next to you and say what I just said." "What? Well hell, let me get my glasses out." "You don't need glasses, just say the same thing I just said." "Oh hell you know I can't remember that without my glasses. Apparently glasses improve memory. (this is why I told her to get READY) She moves in slow motion, digging in her purse for glasses, and finally pulls them out. She puts them on with all the drama of a person who is about to see for the first time. "OK, what am I supposed to do." "Mom, offer the plate to the person next to you and say "this is the body of Christ broken for you. That's it." "Well isn't it written down someWHERE on the bulletin?" "YES, but I just told you what to say, so just say it." No one behind us can get communion until this comedy of errors plays out. She ignores me and starts looking in the bulletin for the written instructions. After eons of time and my mom mouthing the words to herself I finally raise my voice, "Just say the sentence I told you, JUST SAY IT AND PASS THE PLATE!" My mother has the nerve to look genuinely surprised and yells "STOP RUSHING ME!"
.
She finally pulls it together and gets the plate on its way down the row. Crisis averted, UNTIL.... someone decided that it was time to pass the wine... "This is the blood of Christ poured out for your sins." Take two........ The organist just keeps playing the same music over and over because my mom has delayed so long that his carefully chosen hymn has ended so he just keeps starting over and keeps playing.... and playing...
This was one of the "shots across the bow" that I should've known meant something was coming.
So now we are back at last Sunday's communion and the process has changed. This time we are taking communion by intinction, dip the bread into the wine. This should be easier for her so we head to the front of the church. She takes a piece of bread and puts it in her mouth. Then she reaches for the goblets and attempts to take it from the elder serving communion. A tug of war ensues and I try to intervene before one of us ends up wearing the wine, The elder says, "it's ok, you can get another piece of bread so you can dip it." My mom waves her arms at the elder and says, "I just had about all the Jesus I need." She waves away the goblet and starts shuffling back to her seat. She really does love Jesus, she just forgot for a minute.
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