Happy Birthday, Dad

Today would have been my dad's 88th birthday. I still miss him terribly. I love you, Dad. Happy Birthday.

Just Another AD Sunday

It’s Sunday! Just another AD Sunday on our little mountain. Though I repeated that today is Sunday numerous times, as I knew I would, and was able to tell Mom that she goes to “club” tomorrow, she wasn’t anything like she was yesterday. Today, she talked all day about her mom and dad and my dad. She told me stories that I’d heard years ago and I sat listening to her tell them as if it were the first time I’d heard them.

The last time I heard her tell those types of stories was five or six years ago. I was amazed at how she was able to recall the detail from those stories. If I didn’t know she had Alzheimer’s I certainly wouldn’t suspect it from her recall today. Her trip down memory lane was as spot on as the first time I’d heard the tales when I was a child.

I’m always amazed at how Alzheimer’s plays with our loved one’s mind. One day or moment it allows shards of light from the past, and another day or moment it steals every memory they have. It’s truly a mind-boggling puzzle to we caregivers never knowing what may or may not be in or on their minds. It’s scary. I can only imagine how it must feel for them.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I may have short circuited those plaques and tangles in her brain with the short stories I read to her yesterday. She may not have recalled anything of what I was reading, but I wondered if it triggered her to remember her childhood and earlier years. I think it did because she hasn’t talked about her mom and dad in several years.

It was good feeling that I may have triggered some fond memories for her from her past in a round about way. I never knew her mom; she died before I was even thought of, but I’d always felt like I knew her from the stories my mom told me about her. Mom talked about when she first started dating Dad, and I had to button my lip to keep from finishing the story. I knew exactly what she’d told me before; I knew the story by heart, and today the story came out exactly as she once told it. Today, as she used to before, Mom spoke of her mother with such admiration. She started to tear up as she spoke of her and said, “She was such a lady.”

Mom said she wished I would have had the chance to know her mother and I said I wished I had, too. Then I said, “Mom, if she was half the lady you are, then I guess I know her through you.” Mom smiled and then laughed a long, hard belly laugh and said, “I’m not near the lady she was. I don’t hold a candle to her.”

“That’s funny,” I said. “I feel the same way. I’m not near the lady you are and I’ll never hold a candle to you.”

Mom got up out of her chair, pushed her walker over to me, hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek.

“You are my candle,” she said.

How do you respond to a compliment like that other than to say, “Thank you, Mom! I love you.”



*** I would have ended this post with that wonderful ending, but…

This little candle’s flame is nearly flickering out with all the imaginary visits from Mr. N. lately. Four times since 7:00 I’ve had to go downstairs and guide Mom back to bed after her thinking Mr. N. was in the living room. I asked Mom what she would do if Mr. N. were here? This is the part where I think I needed the walker to hold me up and keep my balance. She said, “I’d bring him back here in my room and take him to bed with me.”

Oh boy! Am I going to have fun tonight! ROFL This is getting to be a bit awkward.

As I explained to her that Mr. N. was not in the house and she should get some sleep, she looked at me strangely. Before I had the covers pulled up and tucked her in, she asked, “Who’s this Mr. N. guy you’re talking about?”

I burst out laughing and she laughed, too, as I said, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Mom. Let’s get some sleep.”



Here’s hoping. :D


PS. Oh, yes, I can't go without mentioning my mom's and my neighbor turned 102 today!
Happy Birthday Mrs. E.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Today would have been my mom and dad’s 66th wedding anniversary. Two years ago, when I mentioned the date, Mom was surprised when I said they would have been married 64 years. Last year and this year the date went by without me mentioning it, and without her realizing it. Dates and phone numbers seem to stick in my head. We always celebrated their anniversary at Thanksgiving every year. There won’t be any celebration this year, but I can at least remember for her.



This picture is a wood burning of my mom and dad’s wedding picture. When my daughter, Stacey, was in the Army stationed in Korea, she had it made for Mom and sent it to her for Christmas. Ever since, it's hung over the mantle of the fireplace my dad built in Mom's living room.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Since Thanksgiving I’m finding myself reminiscing more than I’d like to. I treasured the holidays when family used to gather together and I miss those times terribly. It seems since Dad died this family fell apart. Without Dad around, this family hasn’t been any fun and since Mom has had Alzheimer’s there’s no ‘family’ at all. Not in the real sense of the word anyway.

Family used to talk to each other and invite each other to their homes. That hasn’t happened, at least for me, since my dad died. I guess when Dad died, in the eyes of my brothers and nieces and nephew, I died too. No one had to bother with me, unless my mom pitched a fit because I was left out. It got to the point that I told her not to bother because I felt if they 'had to be told' to invite me, they didn't want me around. They made that perfectly clear over the years. The only person who seemed to care what was going on in my life was my mother (other than my daughters, Angel and Stacey, and my Uncle Joe). That used to bother me, a lot. But things have changed. Now...I couldn't care less.

Two years ago, I tried to plan a special Christmas for Mom. I invited both my brothers and told them to pass the invitation to all their family members to come home for Christmas. No one came except my daughters, their families, and Two Feather. Not even a call to say they weren't coming. All I got from the rest of the ‘so-called family’ was excuses, a hard time, and ridicule. For all intents and purposes, that is the last Christmas Mom remembers. That is, if you want to call a lot of prodding and picture showing to bring that memory back, remembering.

Normally, I put up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. It’s still neatly tucked away in the box in which it was packed in 2005 and is sitting in my mom’s basement. I’ll probably have Two Feather take my tree back to my house in the next week or so and have him toss it in the basement to be stored with all the other decorations I doubt I’ll bother with this year. I still haven’t pulled out Mom’s little tree that we used last year. Why bother. I used to love this time of year; now it’s just another day that will go by without Mom ‘really’ knowing what day it is.

Alzheimer’s is a cruel disease. It is taking Mom piece by piece and it is ripping me apart.

As much as I said I had so much to be thankful for at Thanksgiving, I’d just as soon pass on holidays from now on. I hate Alzheimer’s! I hate what it’s doing to my mom. And I hate what it’s doing to me.

I Give Thanks

The turkey was in the oven and roasting as Mom slept. Two Feather came down and we sat upstairs sipping our morning coffee and talking about the two Thanksgiving dinners I’d prepared at our house. We’d only been together two years when I moved in with Mom to take care of her. Since then, we’ve had all our holiday meals here at her house. We talked about how we were just getting to know each other and learning how to live with each other when I had to move here; and we talked about how we’ll need to learn that all over again when the time comes for me to move back.

I have so much to be thankful for. Not just today, but every day. Every day is difficult for Two Feather and I being apart, but holidays are an especially difficult time. He’s been so very patient with me in my care giving for Mom and I know he’s terribly lonely each evening as he sits in our house alone while I’m down here at Mom’s. I’m so thankful that he’s as understanding and caring as he is. For him, I give thanks; for without him, his support, and his shoulder to cry on, my care giving would be so much more difficult.

I had a very loving and caring father who made so many wonderful memories for me. Everything I know about carpentry, roofing, electrical work, plumbing, butchering, farming, gardening—well everything I know about almost everything, I learned from him. Mom taught me all the ladylike things, like cooking, cleaning, ironing, baking, and canning. They both taught me to be respectful, honest, and true to myself. For my parents, I give thanks. I couldn’t have asked for better parents if I were to pick them out myself.

I miss my dad terribly during the holidays, and in the ten years that he’s been gone; my mom has taken his chair at the head of the table, whether dinner was at my house or hers. Today, as everyone filled their plates with the holiday dinner, I thought how lucky I am to be here—to still be alive to enjoy each and every day with my family, whether it is at a dinner table or a conversation on the phone. Stacey called this morning and wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. Trinity and Quenton got on the phone and I talked to them, too. I give thanks that the Creator allowed me to live to have two wonderful daughters of my own, who in turn gave me grandchildren. For my life, my children, and my grandchildren, I give thanks.

I thought of all my caregiver friends and said a silent prayer for those who would be spending their first Thanksgiving without their loved ones. I wished for them to have a happy holiday knowing that their loved ones are at peace, and hoped they would be surrounded with love. And I wished a “good day” for those who are still caring for their loved ones. For my caregiver friends and all their support, I give thanks. I hope your day was as wonderful as mine was.

Quietly I watched everyone eat dinner; Katie sitting at the table eating with grown up silverware, and everyone adding to their plates. I paid particular attention to Mom. I’d filled Mom’s plate with a little of everything from each bowl, and with each spoonful said a silent prayer of thanks for another day with Mom, my family, and for the food. The most anyone said while eating was how good everything tasted. We were too busy eating to say much else.



Each time Mom took a bite of food she told me everything was delicious and thanked me for making the meal. After each bite she would look up at everyone around the table, look down at her plate, fill her fork, and tell me it was delicious. I watched and listened each time she filled her fork. By the time everyone was finished eating, Mom had finished her whole plate of food, too! She said, “That was delicious, honey. I’m full.” I said, “I’m so proud of you, Mom. That’s the most you’ve eaten in a long time.” She said, “Really?” I said, “Really! And I’m so happy you ate so well.”

I turned my head to hide my tears. Two Feather saw them. I know he knew what the tears were for. Angel and Tim saw them, too. I’m pretty sure they knew why I had tears in my eyes, too.

For Mom eating, I give thanks.

Love you, everyone. Happy Thanksgiving!!

Today Was Different

Well, today was different for a few reasons. Mom woke up asking me who was the bitch in the house last night. Whoever it was she thought was there, she didn’t like this old woman and she thought she was a thief. She’d grabbed her walker and moved it from the bottom of the bed to beside her bed so this person couldn’t steal it. I told Mom there wasn’t anyone in the house but her and I and she must have been dreaming. She was convinced that someone was in her room during the night. That was quite strange because Mom didn’t get out of bed even once last night. Then, while we were combing her hair, she stared at something on her dresser. I asked what she was looking at and she said she was looking at the picture of ‘us’ and pointed at a picture of her and my dad. Okay. Was the ‘us’ her thinking her and Dad, or was she thinking her and I. I didn’t ask. I’m not sure I wanted to know. I just said, oh, okay, that’s a nice picture, and I prodded her toward the kitchen to give her breakfast and pills before we left. On the way to day care all she said was how pretty the leaves were.

There was another reason today was different. It was the first time since my granddaughter Katie was born that I had the opportunity to spend time with her without Angel and Tim around. I took Mom to day care and Angel brought Katie over about 10:30. Angel’s interview wasn’t until 1:00 but she wanted to make Katie lunch and get her down for a nap before she left at noon. I think Angel was a bit nervous leaving Katie because it was the first time Katie had been alone with me without Angel around.

Katie seemed quite comfortable at my house actually. She ate and fell asleep before Angel left, which gave Angel time to change clothes and get ready for her appointment, and give me the motherly directions of what to do when Katie woke up; change her diaper, give her the canned peaches, and little fruit snack chewy things. Yep, I think I can handle that; I had two little girls way back when. LOL

It felt really strange having a baby in the house again. It reminded me of when I took care of my granddaughter Trinity for nearly two years while Stacey was in Korea. I sat on the couch and watched Katie sleep. Her little dimpled fingers opened and closed into a fist and her foot would lift and kick the blanket. She rolled from her back to her side and onto her tummy, then onto her side again. It felt good feeling like a grandma again.

Katie woke up about 1:30. I handled the diaper change and snack time like an old pro and we were off to better things. Katie and I sat on the couch and played with a little musical snowman for a while. Two Feather pushed a small couch pillow over and it tipped onto Katie’s elbow. She giggled and pushed it back. The two of them pushed that pillow back and forth for about ten minutes, giggling each time it flipped. Then, Katie did the cutest thing, Two Feather started to push the pillow again, and I guess Katie decided that was enough pushing and giggling and she put her forefinger up, waved it back and forth, and said, “no, no, no.”

Angel called about 2:20 and said she was waiting for another person to interview her and she’d be a little longer. She asked how Katie was doing. I don’t know if she could hear Katie giggling in the background, but I told her she had her snack, she was fine, and to be careful on the way home. We were doing fine.

After I got off the phone with Angel, Katie decided she liked my dog and crawled up on the couch by her to stroke her fur. Then we moved over to another chair and Katie played with the little talking piano toy Angel brought with her. The piano keys were labeled A, B, C, D, and E. A was for apple and had a biting crunch sound, B never got pushed, so I’m not sure what it was for, C was for car with a horn beep (I always thought C was for cat), D was for dog with a barking sound, and E was for elephant with an elephant sound. Wow, toys have changed so much since my kids were little. Angel and Stacey used to have the big round Fisher Price toy with the letters and pictures of animals. They had to turn the big red arrow to point to the animal and pull the cord to hear the name and sound of the animal.

Anyway, Katie either got tired of pushing the buttons on the piano toy, or she got tired of me taking pictures of her; whichever it was, she put her hands to her side and gave me this look that seemed to say, “Are we done yet?”

Katie and I moved back over to the couch, I changed her again, and by that time Angel was walking in the door at 3:30. She put everything in the car and left for home.

Katie was only awake for two hours while she was there but we managed to fill those two hours with a lot of playtime. After she left I sat on the couch and talked with Two Feather for a half hour before I had to leave to pick up Mom. On the way out to the car, I realized this old ladies’ body isn’t what it used to be. My knees felt rug burned, and my back was killing me. Crawling around on the floor didn’t bother me five years ago, but a lot has changed in five years.

I picked Mom up at day care and the first thing she asked me was whether she woke me up last night during the night. When I said no, she said, that’s odd; I thought I woke you to throw that old woman out of the house. Nope, Mom, you didn’t wake me. That’s good she said. *shrug* She didn't mention it again.

Mom ate very little dinner and went to bed as soon as she was finished. She said she was exhausted and felt cold. I tucked her in, said I love you and came up to my room. Within minutes I could hear the soft steady breathing of her sleep. I’m tired too; think I’ll hit the sack early tonight. All this mothering and grand mothering is tiring. LOL

Before closing though, I'd like to say thank you to all soldiers serving in every part of the world and all our veterans who served in the past. Thank you for what you've done for our country. Yesterday was the official Veteran's Day, but since it's being observed today, I felt it only right to let you all know you're in my thoughts and prayers. Thanks Dad, Uncle Joe, Stacey, Angel, and all of you wonderful military personnel.

Tranquil Life in the Country

There’s nothing more tranquil than life in the country and watching nature at its best. I love the season changes. To me, this old mountain has always been the most beautiful place in the world. That will never change. When I was a young girl, Dad and Mom had considered placing a road sign at the bottom of the driveway, but for some reason that never happened. The name they were going to put on the sign was 'pleasant view drive'. As you can see by the pictures, the name would have been perfect.

Just four days ago these trees were still green with very little color, but with the cooler nights and sunlit days the brilliance of the leaves are painting the landscape into yet another beautiful view.
Now that the leaves are changing colors, it's easier to see the squirrels scampering from branch to branch gathering nuts for the winter. Watching the squirrels run through the crisp leaves and hearing the leaves crunch under the hooves of the deer grazing and walking through the yard sets a peaceful atmosphere. All the sounds of nature are beautiful. The birds songs echo through the trees and as they fly from tree to tree.

This is a picture of the hillside across the valley from Mom's house.

I love gazing at the colors, and when a soft breeze blows, the leaves dancing slowly to the ground fascinate me. Each day more and more leaves show their hue of yellow, orange, and red adding more beauty to an already picturesque site.

This is just one of the many reasons why I have no intention of ever leaving the area where I grew up. Not only will I stay because there are so many wonderful memories here, but also out of respect for my dad because he diligently worked every day to make this our home. I can’t think of a better way to honor him and my mother than to maintain what he had worked his entire life for.

Kawasaki Mule and a Farmall Tractor—More Memories

Two Feather uses his Kawasaki Mule to run around the property and cut up all the fallen trees for firewood. As mentioned in my previous post, he also uses it to transfer the mowers back and forth from our house to Mom’s. He also uses it to plow the snow off both driveways, to grade the driveways when they become rutted from the rain, and to drive back and forth through the woods to see me everyday. The Mule has nearly 700 hours on it from all the work he’s done with it.

Today when we went through the woods to get to the bottom of Mom’s driveway to pick up her garbage can, there was a strange loud scraping noise coming from underneath the Mule. When we got back up to our house, we cleaned off all the mud from the underbelly, cleaned around all the moving parts, and greased all the fittings. Seems once all the mud was removed the noise became louder. When he went to loosen the gear oil bolt so he could check the oil level in the gearbox, the bolt snapped.

Guess we’ll be calling the Kawasaki dealer to come pick it up for service. Not only do we need to find out what the strange scraping noise is, we now need them to get the other half of the bolt out and probably rethread the opening and put a new bolt in.

Good thing we mowed Mom’s grass when we did. Now we’re going to have to figure out how to get the mowers to her place if the yards need mowed again. We were hoping this was the last mowing, but with the way the weather has been it may need done a few more times before winter sets in.

So much for things going smoothly. Two Feather and I always say that if we didn’t have bad luck, we wouldn’t have any luck at all. I’m getting really good at saying, “Oh well!”

Next stop…the auto parts store. Mom gave Two Feather and me Dad’s old ’51 Farmall tractor several years ago, before I started taking care of her. Dad’s old tractor had been sitting in the bottom of the barn for years and didn’t run. The gas tank still had gas in it that turned to gel and rust, and it needed new everything. Two Feather worked on that tractor determined to get it up and running again. He cleaned and scrubbed the inside of the gas tank until he got it cleaned out. He bought a new gas filter and installed that, and fiddled with the thing replacing one part after another. He wouldn’t give up.

After working on it for about a week, one day I heard him yelling from the garage. I couldn’t tell if he sounded angry or happy.

I remember the day so well. As I walked toward our garage, I heard him yelling, “Come on!” and then I heard the sound of the ignition turning. I ran up to the garage and by the time I got there, Dad’s old Farmall fired up, sputtered and spit, and then I heard the noisy old hum of the engine, and watched Two Feather back it out onto the driveway.

Tears streamed down my face hearing the sound of Dad’s old tractor running again. When I was young, I used to ride with Dad and when I got older I’d stand on the back bar and hang onto the seat. Hearing that old tractor again meant the world to me. It would have meant the world to Dad, too. I couldn’t stop crying, yet I was laughing at the same time because I was so happy. My face held a beaming smile as the tears flowed..

“That’s what it’s all about, right there,” Two Feather said.

“What?” I asked.

“That smile!”

Of course, being the sentimental fool I am, I cried harder. Then I ran in the house, grabbed the phone, and called Mom. I was so excited.

“Mom, you gotta here this.”

“What?” she asked. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Hold on a second. Let me get outside where you can hear this.” I ran to the driveway and asked. “Do you hear that?”

“Is that what I think it is?” She asked. “Is that Dad’s tractor?”

“Yesssssss!” I said, and started crying again. “Isn’t it wonderful!”

“Yes, it is, honey. I wish Dad were here to hear that. He’d be proud of Two Feather.”

“I wish he were too, Mom. This is great. It’s like having Dad right here, right now.”

“Tell Two I said thank you. I’m so glad he got it running and I hope he gets a lot of use out of it.”

Mom was as excited as I was and before we hung up the phone, she was in tears as well.

Two Feather got that old tractor running within only a week after we took it up to our house, and it ran for nearly a year with no problem. It didn’t have the power it used to have, but it ran.

He quit using it because it needed the head gasket replaced and about the time it spewed oil I started taking care of Mom, so we invested in the Mule to use for snow plowing, the upkeep on the driveways, and something he could drive through the woods to visit me and take care of things around the house.

Looks like he’ll be replacing that head gasket now and get the old tractor running again. We have to have something to get the work done around here. And as usual, he’s just the man to do it. He’s the only man around here.

Thank you, Creator, for sending him to me when you did. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

****

On a different note, Mom's physical therapist came today. She was showing Mom how to transfer from the car more easily. She spent a good deal of time with that and then they came in the house and worked on those darn exercises Mom hates so much.

Mom was exhausted by the time therapy was finished. Her legs do seem to be getting stronger, though. So that's a good thing. I'm so glad that she's able to get back a bit more of her strength.

The therapist said she had a few more visits left with Mom, but she'd have to call me next week to schedule them.