Today with Mom

Mom understands that today is today. That is about the extent of her current concept of time.

It began months ago—even before her recent heart attacks—when she called me at 12:30 at night. She was ready for her doctor’s appointment and wondered where I was. And why it was so dark outside. She asked others if they had noticed how dark it was that day.

This confusion progressed to the point where every time she got up from her bed, even if she had lain down only for a few minutes, she thought she should get dressed and have breakfast. This would be fine since breakfast is her favorite meal, if only people would give her cereal instead of insisting that she have soup, a sandwich or a casserole.

I don’t notice her fixatation on breakfast any longer. Perhaps getting out of bed is no longer any sort of cue.

She’s been very upset with my recent comments about how it’s going to keep getting colder outside. She thinks summer is coming. She told me she was sure that summer followed fall. She’s confused that her daughter and granddaughter aren’t busy putting in a garden. She knows that Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming soon, but not that those holidays arrive in winter. Today I asked her what the four seasons are and she could only name fall and summer, so I can see why winter is so frustrating for her.

She’s also convinced that her birthday is coming up and she’ll be either 92 or 93. She isn’t sure about the age. Her birthday is in April and she’ll be 89. But since she’s believed for several years that she’ll live to age 92, I never correct her unless we’re with a doctor who might need to know the truth. She’s quite pleased with herself for being 92 and I’m pleased for her, too. I hope she makes it to that age in my reality.

It’s been great for me that her sense of time is gone. Only a couple of weeks after I moved her into assisted living I asked her how she was getting along there. She acted surprised and reminded me that she’s been there for months. She will talk about things that happened there last year. Sometimes those things are happenings from 2 years ago or 10 years ago. So I have no guilt about the move because she adapted to the change immediately, if not before then.

She seems to know that she was born in Illinois and moved to Minnesota. She rarely remembers living in Florida, but often remembers living in Texas. She knows that she loved it there. She just can’t place it in any time frame. Usually she talks about things that happened during that time as having happened in Illinois which she left in 1973.

Distance is also confusing. The dining room and front door are downstairs in her mind even though her building is all on one floor. She knows that she once lived in Maple Plain. She still lives in Maple Plain but feels that she’s a long way away from her former home.

I’m thankful that she still puts her clothes on in proper order (as far as I know.)

What’s really strange is that she can’t remember my husband’s name most of the time, but she knows that he’s leaving soon to go to Georgia. Maybe she just thinks he’s always leaving. (That’s pretty much true. He seems to be training somewhere every year.)

All this confusion about time and space doesn’t seem to bother her much. I can’t imagine just accepting it or being able to function. It’s a terrifying concept for me, but it just seems puzzling for Mom.

My last observation from today’s visit is that while Mom is really an angel, her toenails would better suit a demon. I think I’m going to hire someone to trim them. Maybe a farrier.