You Got This Girl!

Happy Family Matters

Written by daughter, B. Marie

4/16/24 9:10 PM

 

I often wonder if I'm ever going to make it through the day. There are bills to be paid, breakfast, lunch and dinner to be made and a sore body to be laid, right across my bed. As I make my way to my bedroom I heard commotion.

"Stop making all that noise up there!" Mom yells while banging on the wall. I quickly run into the room gasping, "Mom, what's wrong? Who are you screaming at?" "Those people upstairs are so noisy." she replies frantic and frustrated. Mom that's Angelo. He's just opening the garage to get the gardening tools out." "No! That's not Angelo. It's those noisy people in the building. The ones living upstairs over my apartment!" "Mom, there is nothing upstairs but a roof. There is no upstairs." Suddenly I remember that we do have an attic and some attics have drop-down steps. 

I'm really not sure if the attic has drop down steps because I'm too afraid to venture up there. What am I thinking? By this time my own thoughts are confusing me. 

Looks like she's finally did it people. She finally got to me. I'm second guessing my own reality. I feel like I just got infected with a dipsey daft virus and if I stay in her room any longer I will start showing the full symptoms of lunacy.  I can see the signs on the wall. "Welcome To The Insane Asylum For Seniors." "Straight jackets are free - Drop your coats off at the door." "Stay calm, someone will be with you shortly."

The Uncontrollable Remote Control

Happy Family Matters

Written by daughter, B. Marie

2/22/24 10:16 AM  

 

Mom will go to great lengths to get the stupid remote fixed. For example,  3 or more times a day while laying on her bed and enjoying her TV shows she accidentally changes the channel or hits the power button and turns off the TV. She surmises that she did not do anything wrong. It's the remote control's fault. 

The remote has run amok, and it needs to be taught a lesson! After fiddling to try to make it work herself, she quickly gets out 

of bed and begins her search for someone, anyone, to fix her remote.  

I dread the day when she can't find anyone in the house to fix the remote and ventures out of  the house.  She would knock on our neighbor's door, and when it opens, she will say, "My stupid remote control won't work. Can you fix it for me?" Of course the remote control works fine. It's the latest in remote control technology. The problem is that for the past 12 months she has not learned how to work it. The poor thing. But it's not entirely her fault. To add to the confusion, some days she thinks the remote control is the cell phone.  

Since she moved from Maryland to Pennsylvania, we had to change cable services. The new service came with an upgraded cable box with a remote control. We hoped she would have learned how to operate the new remote by now, but she hasn't. It would not be so bad if she would just put the thing down and stop trying to change the channel with those busy fingers of hers.  So three or more times a day she roams the halls searching for me or Angelo to help her make her remote work. 

The Case of The Missing Pajamas

Happy Family Matters

Written by daughter, B. Marie

2/22/24 10:16 AM  

Honestly, there are days when I must retrace my steps to nudge my brain into remembering what I went into a room to get, or what I was supposed to do. For example, on this particular day, I was certain that I placed a clean set of pajamas in the bathroom for Mom.

When I glanced into the bathroom while prepping for Mom's shower, there were no pajamas! Then I realized that Mom had just come out of the bathroom, and she has the habit of taking her pajamas and tucking them away when she feels that she doesn't need them at that moment. So now the hunt is on! Nope, they're not in the laundry basket of freshly laundered clothes. Nope, not in her dresser drawers. Nada, not in her closet. Negative, not in my closet. 

Now that leads me to look in the bathroom storage areas:cabinet, under the sink, in the tub, and in the clothes hamper. Nothing, nil, zilch! Not there either. So I asked Mom if she saw her PJs, and, as no surprise to me, she replied, “You gave me pajamas?” I answered, “No, Ma’am, they were in the bathroom. Did you see them?” “No, I haven’t seen any pajamas.”

Coming Home - A Smile Speaks Volumes

Happy Family Matters

Written by daughter, B. Marie

2/22/24 10:16 AM  

"Home is where the heart is"

On our way home from a long day out, Mom sat in the passenger seat searching through her pocketbook for a mint. I knew that she was tired and ready to relax. She asked me for the fifty-eleventh time “What day is this?” “It’s Tuesday” I replied. “We’re almost home.” She looked up from her search and asked, “What city is this?” I told her and then she asked looking rather puzzled, “Do I live with you and Angelo?” “Yes” I replied. “Since when?” I looked over to her and said, “For almost a year now.” “I don’t remember that” she said. “I know, Mom” I uttered with a sigh. “But your things are there, and you’ll recognize them when we get home.” 

We soon arrived home. As I pulled up to our front door, I remembered that smile she had on her face as she entered our home, her new home, for the first time almost a year ago. I got her settled in for the evening and as I kissed her good night, I looked at her face, she again had that same smile which filled my heart with satisfaction.

Keywords: heart warming story about aging, forgetfulness and aging, taking care of mother, stories about caregiving, dealing with memory loss

Hashtags: #heartwarmingstoryaboutaging #forgetfulness #takingcareofmother #caregiving #storiesaboutcaregiving