Tuesday, May 2, 2006
All I can tell you is that...
...for a few days, from April 27th, I've been, hmmm...well, I guess the best description is that I've been below the horizon. Not in a bad way, mind you. Just quiet, contemplative, not given to response outside the home. A few minor details of the last few days have been sketched over at The Dailies, which I just caught up. There is an immediately previous post here, too, about a creative memory incident that I started on 4/29/06 and finally finished and published a few minutes ago.
I'm still feeling pretty quiet. Things are going well, even though "things" include yesterday, which was a startlingly short "up" day for my mother. I'm guessing that she has about one of these days each month, although I haven't gone back and checked. I probably should. They always worry me, then, when she finally arises she is always in exceptional spirits all the way around.
The weather is nicely warm. All the windows are open all day, from morning to late evening, now, without Mom noticing or complaining about cool breezes. Mom finally noticed "the greening of Prescott", as well.
Although I had planned on having her blood drawn today, I don't think that's going to happen until tomorrow or Thursday.
I discovered, during a conversation last night, that Mom has forgotten the circumstances of my being here. Last night she mentioned something about "when [I] leave". I asked her when she expected me to leave.
"When something interesting comes up."
"Mom, this is the interesting thing I'm doing. It's going to remain the interesting thing I'm doing until you die."
"Well, good," she said, clearly relieved. "My focus is on you. I don't want you to leave."
"I won't," I assured her. "You're stuck with me."
She laughed. So did I. I reviewed our history together, including her asking me to live with her and be her companion for the rest of her life. Once reminded, she recalled this. I also told her I thought that perhaps it would be a good idea for me to remind her every few days or so that I'd be here "to the end".
"Good idea," she said. "That'll keep me from worrying."
"You've been worrying about this?" I asked, a little worry creeping into my voice as well.
"Well, no, not really worrying...what's the word?"
"Expecting?"
"Yes, that's better."
"Well, then, I'll remind you to expect my constant presence here. How's that?"
"That's good. Don't forget, now. You know my memory is a little..."
"...creative. How's that?"
She grinned. "That's a good description."
Interestingly, considering how much she was forgetting last night, at one point in the evening, I can't remember when or what the conversational circumstances were, she referred to me as her "daughter". I didn't point this out to her but internally I was pleased. I'm not sure why this pleases me and don't have the wherewithal, at the moment, to elaborate, but, I'm glad, maybe even relieved, that among all my other roles, including my most important, "The One Who Is Always Here", I remain, most of the time, her daughter.
As the weather warms I hope to get her out more. It hasn't worked the last few days, but I think it will, soon. She is moving around the house more than she has, heading for the bathroom every two hours or so on her own so that I don't have to corral her there, taking her tissue build-up by her rocker to the trash, rising from her chair with a bit more ease than usual, appreciating the airiness of the house, etc.
As far as the TOC is concerned, because I had so many categories I decided to sub-categorize all the entries (a total of 1604). That's taking awhile but I think it will render the TOC a bit easier to negotiate. It will, actually, when it's finished, be more of an Index of Contents, rather than a Table.
We discovered a program early this morning with which Mom is thrilled: PBS's Texas Ranch House. When I noticed it I routed her out of bed for it on a hunch. I was right. Luckily, the entire series is being aired from May 1-4 from 2000 - 2200. We vowed to catch all of the rest of it (we missed the first hour of the first episode). From the moment she sat in front of it and focused she was captured. When it was over we talked a lot about conditions at that time. She mentioned (as she frequently does when we watch programs or read books about this period in U.S. History) that she would have loved to have been alive at that time. Hardy spirit.
We also had a Dead Zone session after the program. She was pretty schized through it, forgetting almost immediately after being reminded a couple of times that her sister and brother were dead, although she retained the disposition of her parents' lives. When I reviewed that both her Mom and Dad lived well into their 90's she said, "I've still got a ways to go." So, it sounds like her plan is to hold the extent of her parents' lives "over her head" so to speak. Her intention, I am pleased to announce, seems to be to squeeze as much out of life as she can in the way of time. Good. I'm looking forward to this.
Later.
I'm still feeling pretty quiet. Things are going well, even though "things" include yesterday, which was a startlingly short "up" day for my mother. I'm guessing that she has about one of these days each month, although I haven't gone back and checked. I probably should. They always worry me, then, when she finally arises she is always in exceptional spirits all the way around.
The weather is nicely warm. All the windows are open all day, from morning to late evening, now, without Mom noticing or complaining about cool breezes. Mom finally noticed "the greening of Prescott", as well.
Although I had planned on having her blood drawn today, I don't think that's going to happen until tomorrow or Thursday.
I discovered, during a conversation last night, that Mom has forgotten the circumstances of my being here. Last night she mentioned something about "when [I] leave". I asked her when she expected me to leave.
"When something interesting comes up."
"Mom, this is the interesting thing I'm doing. It's going to remain the interesting thing I'm doing until you die."
"Well, good," she said, clearly relieved. "My focus is on you. I don't want you to leave."
"I won't," I assured her. "You're stuck with me."
She laughed. So did I. I reviewed our history together, including her asking me to live with her and be her companion for the rest of her life. Once reminded, she recalled this. I also told her I thought that perhaps it would be a good idea for me to remind her every few days or so that I'd be here "to the end".
"Good idea," she said. "That'll keep me from worrying."
"You've been worrying about this?" I asked, a little worry creeping into my voice as well.
"Well, no, not really worrying...what's the word?"
"Expecting?"
"Yes, that's better."
"Well, then, I'll remind you to expect my constant presence here. How's that?"
"That's good. Don't forget, now. You know my memory is a little..."
"...creative. How's that?"
She grinned. "That's a good description."
Interestingly, considering how much she was forgetting last night, at one point in the evening, I can't remember when or what the conversational circumstances were, she referred to me as her "daughter". I didn't point this out to her but internally I was pleased. I'm not sure why this pleases me and don't have the wherewithal, at the moment, to elaborate, but, I'm glad, maybe even relieved, that among all my other roles, including my most important, "The One Who Is Always Here", I remain, most of the time, her daughter.
As the weather warms I hope to get her out more. It hasn't worked the last few days, but I think it will, soon. She is moving around the house more than she has, heading for the bathroom every two hours or so on her own so that I don't have to corral her there, taking her tissue build-up by her rocker to the trash, rising from her chair with a bit more ease than usual, appreciating the airiness of the house, etc.
As far as the TOC is concerned, because I had so many categories I decided to sub-categorize all the entries (a total of 1604). That's taking awhile but I think it will render the TOC a bit easier to negotiate. It will, actually, when it's finished, be more of an Index of Contents, rather than a Table.
We discovered a program early this morning with which Mom is thrilled: PBS's Texas Ranch House. When I noticed it I routed her out of bed for it on a hunch. I was right. Luckily, the entire series is being aired from May 1-4 from 2000 - 2200. We vowed to catch all of the rest of it (we missed the first hour of the first episode). From the moment she sat in front of it and focused she was captured. When it was over we talked a lot about conditions at that time. She mentioned (as she frequently does when we watch programs or read books about this period in U.S. History) that she would have loved to have been alive at that time. Hardy spirit.
We also had a Dead Zone session after the program. She was pretty schized through it, forgetting almost immediately after being reminded a couple of times that her sister and brother were dead, although she retained the disposition of her parents' lives. When I reviewed that both her Mom and Dad lived well into their 90's she said, "I've still got a ways to go." So, it sounds like her plan is to hold the extent of her parents' lives "over her head" so to speak. Her intention, I am pleased to announce, seems to be to squeeze as much out of life as she can in the way of time. Good. I'm looking forward to this.
Later.
