Misplaced Anger

-

Misplaced Anger

After Dad died, visits to the lake place became bittersweet.  All our memories involved Dad: drifting in the pontoon boat, watching the fireworks from the deck, charcoaling burgers. 

My sisters and I weren’t surprised when Mom decided to sell it.  She never loved it the way Dad did.  She and nature didn’t get along too well.  She was fearful of the sun damaging her skin, the wind messing up her hair and the birds pooping on her deck. 

In order for Mom to sell it, we needed to clear it out.  We planned one last family weekend at the lake place to help Mom pack.  We pictured a quiet weekend of reminiscing about Dad.      

But Mom ruined it.  She complained if we took a break to enjoy the view.  She snapped at us if we dirtied a glass.  She accused us of stealing items that she couldn’t find.    

By the time we left Sunday morning, anger consumed my thoughts.  On the long drive home, I vented to my husband how Mom destroyed the weekend.  How my memories of the lake place were ruined.

After a couple of hours of listening, my husband said calmly, “I don’t think your mom destroyed the weekend.  Alzheimer’s did.”    

He was right.  Alzheimer’s was the culprit.  My anger was misplaced.  Mom was just a victim.  Alzheimer’s had already destroyed most of mom’s memories.  I wouldn’t allow it to destroy mine.    

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

-
Turning Sorrow into Joy Around the same time that my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, my toddler grandson moved in with us for awhile.      I rejoiced as Tyler learned to speak and increased his vocabulary.   But I was saddened when my mother struggled to remember words and names.   As Tyler advanced from baby mobiles to building blocks, my mother could no longer figure out how to dial a telephone.   Tyler loved to pretend that he was driving our car.   Mom was turning over the keys to us, knowing she would never drive again.   My husband and I would shop for educational but fun items that would challenge Tyler and stimulate his brain as he grew.   At the same time we would shop for Mom, trying to find items that would simplify her life, such as remotes and telephones with the fewest number of buttons possible.   Having Tyler with us at this difficult time was a Godsend.   It helped me come to terms with the fact that although I was facing a progres
Read more

Alzheimer's Bingo

-
Alzheimer's Bingo While visiting Mom today I decided to join the other Alzheimer’s residents for a game of Bingo. It went something like this: Bingo Caller: B9. Gertrude: Did you say D9? Other players start frantically looking for D9 on their cards. Mabel: No, she said B9. Gertrude: (sounding garbled): What??? Mabel: (Shouting) B9! B9! Bingo Caller: Gertie, did you put your hearing aids in your mouth again? Gertrude (still garbled): Huh?? Bingo Caller: Spit them out, please. Mabel: Shit them out? That could take days! Bingo Caller: sigh... Mom: What are we doing? Me: Playing Bingo. Amy, the aide, sticks her hand out and Gertie obediently spits out the hearing aids. Amy dries them with a towel and puts them back in Gertie’s ears. All the ladies look around in confusion wondering what is holding up the game. Bingo Caller: Ok, next number is N43. Mabel points at Margaret's card, rolls her eyes and announces in a superior tone: You
Read more
-
Any Special Requests? Just an FYI:   When performing for a roomful of Alzheimer’s patients, it may not be wise to ask for song requests from the audience.   Not unless you want to hear the same song over and over!   A well-known local band visited Mom's memory care facility as a special treat.   As soon as they played one re quested song another member of the audience would ask for the same song again!  And each time, all the residents would nod their head approvingly at the suggestion!  As though they hadn't just heard the song over and over!  I was pleasantly s urprised that Margaritaville and Hotel California were the two requested tunes.  But now I cannot get either of them out of my head.
Read more