Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Mom
I no longer accompany my mother to the toilet in the evening. She makes anywhere between 8 and 10 trips. A trip every 2 minutes just about. She doesn’t remember that she just went to the bathroom. Sometimes she doesn’t remember that she just flushed the toilet and flushes more than once. Each visit is heralded with, Sandy (or Rob), I’m going in the bathroom. Her vernacular is from the hometown. She never used prepositions correctly.
I cannot accompany her to the bathroom each time. I cannot don the gloves. I cannot do the required stream of ablutions. I cannot stand the constant interruptions. I still worry about bladder infections and kidney infections. I still worry about sepsis. Her toileting habits are awful. But I cannot be awake at all hours of the night either to accommodate her need. There is little I can do to protect my mother from herself every minute of the day and night. Little.
Lucy
I am still grieving my dearest Lucy, of course, and will be for a long time to come. There is no one who can stop the gnawing pain in my heart. But I felt her soft body relax into my arms. It was my reward for loving her that I was able to hold her so closely and to be there for her when she left her failing body. My little sweetheart. Beautiful to the end.
Val
Linda was here today. She brought two of her Belgian sheep dogs for Val to play with. He nipped and got nipped at. He met his match—two times over. They ran and ran. The yard was their play land. Then the kid on the skateboard—who as it turns out dropped out of school two years ago—came out to play too. On his skateboard, no less. I had fantasies of hitting him on the head with the damned thing. Can’t you see that Val is upset? Val spent much of the afternoon barking after Linda and her canine gang left. I kept Val on leash and close to me to prevent him from becoming too upset. He is still walking around with the leash dragging behind him. But he does pay attention. He does stop barking when I get him away from the window. He can be controlled. Val has come a long way from the little lunatic he was when he first moved here 6.5 years ago. Seems a lot longer than that. A lot longer.
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