Saturday, April 28, 2001
From a Who in Whoville - To LTF
About a half hour ago my mother came on up out of (I did it! 4 prepositions in a row!) a nap, sat in her rocking chair and said to me, "Do you remember that girl's name who lived down the hall from us in Mechanicsville?"
I was startled but I'm getting very good at taking these things in stride so I said, "You mean when you were in college?" That would be Cornell College in Mt. Vernon, Iowa.
"Yes. You know who I'm talking about. That girl who coached high school basketball with me."
I knew who it was. I'm familiar with the names of many of my mother's long time friends and relatives from stories. I confirmed this for her then said, "Mom, I wasn't at Cornell with you. I wasn't even a gleam in your eye."
She looked at me with a glint of confusion and then said, "You could be right." She has, all her life, been very sly about not agreeing with people when she knows she's right.
The thing is, I immediately realized that half of me was there as an egg. I plan on contemplating that later.
I was equally struck that we're at the stage now where I will probably be a variety of people from my mother's life. I'm pleased that, in this case, I was her roommate when she was a senior. Previously she had roomed with her cousin who is a year older than her. I wouldn't mind being that cousin either. She's still alive and she's still a firebrand. When she and my mother talk on the phone I can hear her through the receiver from across the living room and the dining room. Mom and her other roommate were fast friends. The assistant coach was/is a graphic artist and sketched an excellent likeness of my mother when they were in college, which we still run across when we're sorting through boxes. If I run across it I'll scan it in next to this post. They went into the military together, became gunnery instructors together. They had many adventures all over the U.S. which my mother recalls at least once a month. Both married military men at about the same time. They kept in touch for many years. I think it's only been in the last 5 years or so that they've lost touch.
I don't know if senile memory/reality confusion is selective but, in this case, I prefer to think it is. I'd much rather be thought of as my mother's treasured, adventurous friend than as her mother. Her relationship with her mother always bordered formality. Maybe, though, if I become her mother my informality will cause her relationship with her mother to 'change', become closer the way she may have wished it.
Senile dementia is a most interesting carriage through life. I think that instead of fighting it or feeling isolated because of it and shutting themselves off from the demented, those who know the demented should consider, well, not really hopping into the driver's seat. As it turns out I didn't have to pretend to be my mother's assistant coach, I was her. Maybe just following along to see where it leads. In my mother's case it is never a fretful journey and often enlightening and amusing.
I was startled but I'm getting very good at taking these things in stride so I said, "You mean when you were in college?" That would be Cornell College in Mt. Vernon, Iowa.
"Yes. You know who I'm talking about. That girl who coached high school basketball with me."
I knew who it was. I'm familiar with the names of many of my mother's long time friends and relatives from stories. I confirmed this for her then said, "Mom, I wasn't at Cornell with you. I wasn't even a gleam in your eye."
She looked at me with a glint of confusion and then said, "You could be right." She has, all her life, been very sly about not agreeing with people when she knows she's right.
The thing is, I immediately realized that half of me was there as an egg. I plan on contemplating that later.
I was equally struck that we're at the stage now where I will probably be a variety of people from my mother's life. I'm pleased that, in this case, I was her roommate when she was a senior. Previously she had roomed with her cousin who is a year older than her. I wouldn't mind being that cousin either. She's still alive and she's still a firebrand. When she and my mother talk on the phone I can hear her through the receiver from across the living room and the dining room. Mom and her other roommate were fast friends. The assistant coach was/is a graphic artist and sketched an excellent likeness of my mother when they were in college, which we still run across when we're sorting through boxes. If I run across it I'll scan it in next to this post. They went into the military together, became gunnery instructors together. They had many adventures all over the U.S. which my mother recalls at least once a month. Both married military men at about the same time. They kept in touch for many years. I think it's only been in the last 5 years or so that they've lost touch.
I don't know if senile memory/reality confusion is selective but, in this case, I prefer to think it is. I'd much rather be thought of as my mother's treasured, adventurous friend than as her mother. Her relationship with her mother always bordered formality. Maybe, though, if I become her mother my informality will cause her relationship with her mother to 'change', become closer the way she may have wished it.
Senile dementia is a most interesting carriage through life. I think that instead of fighting it or feeling isolated because of it and shutting themselves off from the demented, those who know the demented should consider, well, not really hopping into the driver's seat. As it turns out I didn't have to pretend to be my mother's assistant coach, I was her. Maybe just following along to see where it leads. In my mother's case it is never a fretful journey and often enlightening and amusing.
