My Mom and Me: A Story About Sexy Nighties and More

My mama and me, July 22nd, 2019

Every day that I visit my mother at her assisted living, which is every 1-3 days unless I'm out of town, is a new adventure. I never know what I'm going to walk into.

Within the last week or two, my mom was so tired and disengaged one day that I was once again acutely aware of how finite our time together is. It was very painful to be feeding my mother as she sat tilted to one side, barely awake, and mostly silent. Except for the moments when she did speak — like when she looked me in the eyes and said, "My sweet darling." Two days later she was much more alert and engaged, smiling and talkative. She looked at what I was wearing and said, "I like your blouse." I never know from one day to the next...

And then I heard from her caregivers, who all adore her, about how my mom has continued to decline over the past week and to the point where she has gotten so stiff that it's increasingly hard for Mom to bend her arms and legs. Which means that it is also more difficult for her to be dressed and undressed, toileted and maneuvered into and out of bed, helped into the seat at the in-house beauty salon where she has her hair done every Wednesday morning, etc. It's painful to be witness to.

Last night I brought her a new set of blouses and nighties that I purchased that will be easier for her caregivers to get her in and out of. I set the bag down in her apartment when I arrived and together we set off for the dining room. We sat at a different table that faced several tables that were full of residents. Mom said, "I like this table." I reflected, "It sounds like you like people watching." Mom smiled.

Then I told her about the new clothes that I got for her, new blouses and nighties. My mom didn't miss a beat before asking, "Is the nightie kind of sexy?" I just burst into loud laughter! "Mama, you just freaking crack me up! You are so funny!!" And I dug into my purse for a sticky note to write my mother's words down as I wanted to remember the exact quote. Then Mom asks, "What are you writing?" "I'm writing down your words asking if "the nightie is kind of sexy?" My mom looked a bit confused and amused when she asked me, "Did I really say that?" (She has Alzheimer's, you know.) "Yes, you did, Mama, and you are just so adorable!" Mom smiles...

And the food arrives and I begin lifting forkful after forkful of her dinner to her mouth. Every now and then she just looks at me and smiles. Or she looks with interest at the other people sitting near us. "Do we know the people at that table?" she asks. "Well, yes, kind of. They've also had apartments here for a while." Mom is satisfied. And the server comes by and asks Nancy if she'd like the ice cream sundae for dessert? My mother looks a bit confused and I answer, "Yes. And please add extra fudge topping." The server smiles. Everyone knows that Nancy loves her chocolate.

And as I go on feeding my mother I spontaneously observe my left elbow resting on the table while I feed her with my right hand. And then a flashback is upon me. I was a little girl sitting during dinnertime with my family, and I was resting my left elbow on the table. Suddenly my mother, who had been sitting to my left, grabbed my left wrist and began banging my elbow repeatedly up and down on the table. "You have to learn to NOT put your elbow on the table!" she yelled. It was not proper....

And I tapped into the part of myself that holds deep sadness for how incredibly lost and hurting my mama and I once were. And I connect with the profound gratitude for the contrast of all that we share today.

My consciousness of miracles and the preciousness of our time together is always with me. I treasure all of our moments, including what happened when I saw my mom three days ago. I had been hoping to go out into the garden area after dinner, but my mother declined. She has been increasingly tired and declining more and more. And so I just looked at my mom and commented on how much I love her and how wonderful our time together that day, and every day, is. And, while my mother continued to look up at me from her wheelchair, she had a different and strange expression and she was silent and not responding. So I got down at her level and looked into her eyes, smiled, and commented on our lovely time together. Mom remained silent while her arms shook. Her eyes were also looking glassy and I began to wonder if my mom was having a stroke right then and there. 

Then, and as my mother continued to look into my eyes, I thought to ask, "Mama, I wonder what you are thinking right now?" And my mother finally responded. She said, "How very much I love you."

Okay, I'm crying again...

Every day is such a treasure. And miracles really are possible. And such a great teaching this is — never underestimate the power of Grace and Love.

May we all be so blessed,

Molly

Photo by Molly