Mom & Me Four Archive

with Brain Age...not so much the pleasure of the game, although it is fun and becomes more fun the further you go...more for my mother's pleasure in the game. I was hoping for "mildly interested". I got, in a day, close to "dedicated". Funny, when we initially sat down to do beading, she actually made a passing bracelet, clasp and all, while I got lost in sorting a multi-type bead spill. Once she made the bracelet she never wanted to do it again. The need for novelty, I thought. The night I debuted the stamping and card making supplies didn't go even that well. The debut occurred under optimimum conditions: Family company was here (although not the family member who suggested the stamping set), one of whom remembers our serendipitous "craft nights" at home, growing up, when Mom would try out a new craft for use in school, lay the elements on the table and invite us to have at it with her. That's what we were all doing that night with the card making and stamping supplies. MPS, MPNC and I all made startling cards. Mom pushed brightly colored paper and tubes of glue-on glittery things around and smiled and occasionally conversed, but didn't really participate. Alone, together, she tends to let others do the creative work, now, although she continues to enjoy being in the middle of the bustle.
    My favorite evening craft project from that era was acrylic sculpture. Mom had found a loosely devised kit at an art supply store that included wire and cans of transparent liquid acrylic in a variety of colors. We bent wire into shapes, dipped the shapes in the liquid acrylic which would hold and drip itself into beautiful standing sculptures...then let them dry and, well, do whatever you want with them. It seems like one of us made a pinwheel with that stuff. Another tried double dipping, color over color.
    I've never seen anything like it before or since. The liquid acrylic probably had lethal fumes, although it smelled seductive, like ammonia: You don't want to but the aroma makes you breathe it in.
    Mom would, among the other chores she was doing (shades of caregiving), also participate. I know that these are some of my fondest memories and I continue to anticipate more such "craft nights"; maybe not nearly as many, but just as fun. Luckily, we live in a crafty family. I've been wondering, lately, because she's mentioned it, if she might be interested in knitting and/or crocheting, again. We've got loads of unused yarn around.
    When activity, or, at least, the anticipation of increased activity, steps up a bit, I always find a Devil's Advocate sitting on my shoulder, reminding me not to get too excited. We're not talking The Recovery or Remission of Old Age and Inevitable Decline. I remember, when her obvious decline began, I was, first, startled, then angry, sure there were cures for what ailed her. It took me a long time to adjust my speed and attitude. Some of the credit should go to Mom. She has always insisted on a light medical touch. Although some would disagree, I think, in her case, she is right. I could, for instance, be having her evaluated for NPH. She is a fairly likely candidate. And, I would, if there weren't so many other reasons for her dementia and physical decline, as well as heightened surgery risk. And, too, if her spirit was affected by her dementia I'd consider further examinations. She could probably survive several very-uncomfortable-to-torturous scopings, but, you know, when the colonoscopist declares her Unfit for Scoping, well, step back, Loretta. If my mother were the type who embraced the highly invasive medical technology of our era I might be inclined to continue scoping. But, she's not so inclined, unless said technology causes no discomfort. I mean, let's face it. It's fucking scary to "wake up" during a merging of realities and discover yourself half naked on a gurney with a scope up your ass, moaning uncontrollably. No need to put Mom through that, again, unless the expected results far outweigh the "torture". And, yes, I could be more "proactive", more like a social director, scheduling her days, etc. I used to do that. But, you know, there have been subtle (and not so subtle) signals throughout the years that, at times, she's been ready to step back out of (so much) activity...that she likes her semi-solitude. So, you know, I go with the flow and remember The Wondrous FNP telling me not to invite unnecessary conflict over any inabilities I may have to "do the right thing". If we're both feeling good and satisfied with our lives and each other's company, that's the battle won.
    Well, you know, places to go, things to do, people to see...I think I'll put off Costco, though. She might be up to a trip early next week, right after the holiday and none of those supplies are urgent.
    Which reminds me...neither she nor I had any idea it was the Extended July 4th Weekend Holiday until we were rudely reminded last night, just before Mom retired. So, we have no plans, although I might order out for pizza one night. "Time[lessness], time[lessness], time[lessness], see what's become of me..." --apologies and thanks to Simon and Garfunkel. And, I think, Paula.
    Later.