the visit...
you turned 80 last week on august 1st...we couldnt be there on your day, allen had to work. you were sleeping when we got there, and you were a bit confused at first. but you got up and agreed to some company, asking me what was going on, what we were going to do. (i think when you see me, your mind automatically thinks we're going to one of the events we used to go to on a regular basis, before you began your dementia.)i handed you your gift bag, telling you it was for your birthday. allen, as is typical of him, got you a dolphin statuette for your birthday. he got it last minute, with a moments thought, when he stopped by casey's for a snack, before picking me up, so that we could have a belated birthday visit with you. (dolphins, for a woman who has a roomful of native american themed items.) you looked at the dolphins, said "what is this?" and gently sat the statuette down. i explained it was gift for your birthday, as was the card from roger and kathy, and the floral t-shirt, and matching necklace from me. you looked the card over, i knew you couldnt read it, your eyesight having decayed, you said a polite thank you for it. the t-shirt and necklace you put on, immediatedly, over the clothes you were already wearing. allen had sat down, i was standing helping you with your gifts. you finally arose from the bed and sat in your rocker for a bit, allen, to save himself from having to say too much, and to fill the ocassional lapses of conversation in the room, turned on the tv. you would get restless, now and then, leaving the chair, to sit by me on the bed. i began rambling about various things i thought might stir your interest. i talked of work, of family, of flowers and gardening, and my cats, and the weather, letting you add whatever you could, gauging how alert your mind was. your mental time loops and repetitions began almost immediately. practically one question on top of another, you asked me three times if i had to work. i varied the answer slightly each time. the subject of the weather stirred you into enthusiastic conversation on how bad the thunderstorms had been. you sprinkled the conversation numerous times with the words "there had been no place to go"(for shelter), and yet you also mentioned how you were in the chapel during one of the storms, and i know there is a large, comfortable, well-appointed, safe, basement level, if the storms had been that severe. at one point i mentioned this to you so that your mind would repeat that idea to itself, as a comfort. you would interject odd names in the conversation as we discussed extended family, i think when you mentioned patrick, your mind was searching for the name derek, and when you mentioned kevin and kyle you probably meant caleb and cholby. your mind also kept sticking on a point it goes to over and over, whenever we seem to visit. i know of course, that no one else really understands what you mean when you say "i wont do it! i just wont do it! i wont babysit that guitar. i wont do it for that man-i dont like him!" you confuse the minister at the home, one that evidently plays a guitar and sings, with a rather arrogant moderately talented local country music artist, we used to see long ago at the amateur country music show and contest, where i used to sell crafts. despite there being other "regulars" there, our craft tables always seemed to be a bit of a checking point for everyone. the country artists would leave their instruments with us, to watch over, while they were doing other things, and the audience members would come to my table and want to start looking over, and buying my crafts, before i even had a real chance to set them up for display. i try to steer your mind to other time loops, reminding you of the fair and carnival times. i respond to your mental ramblings as gently as i can, trying to avoid anything negative, so your mind wont replay it for you over and over. i willingly manipulate the conversation for you, telling you things i know ive already mentioned, telling you tidbits of informtaion that is sometimes months old, sometimes even slightly lieing so that i will at least have something to say. allen rarely adds anything, somertimes, drifting asleep. i conscioulsy avoid all the things you havent been told from this past year. you do not know that i had cancer and hysterectomy surgery. you do not know i was held at gunpoint at the store. you did not notice that i have a protruding hernia. you are unaware of rogers stroke and his months-long recovery from it. i will not allow these things to be planted in your mind so they can be repeated over and over. another nursing home occupant comes to your door after the nurse has come by with the medication cart, and you have protested about your meds but have taken them anyway. the elderly woman has a walker but seems alert, she tells you that she will come by later, after your family has left, to go with you down to supper at 5:30. your restlessness grows, even though you are tired, its our signal to leave, we follow you as you leave your room. we have been there half an hour, its around 4:30 and you grab your two canes and head out to see where everyone else is going, joining the small line of wheel-chair occupants waiting for the elevator. i think theyre going for their meals, you will probably end up going with them, having already forgotten the offer your friend just made. we say our goodbyes, once more as we're leaving, you say you dont know whats going on, but, at least you dont seem disturbed by this, as we leave, i hear you telling one of the ladies that we are your daughter and son, and we have just been there for a visit...