Mom & Me Journals Histories: 1999 - 2001

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    When I took my mother to the hair salon this morning I walked in and announced I was the Grinch and I was in the process of stealing Christmas. I had some errands to run while my mother got her hair done. When I returned everyone pummeled me with much good humor and affection. It felt good. I don't take the holidays well, even at my best, you should know that about me. This year I've having a pretty bad year so that doesn't help. Not my worst, but I've seen much, much better. I do like the light displays, though. I'm a sucker for the glitter of Christmas. Even and especially the garish glitter, like ZooLights and Fantasyland light displays. So is my mother so we'll be hitting all the spectacular sites this year.

    This evening I am cleaning my mother's shit out of the carpet, spot by spot, in long a trail from one bathroom to another. She had her first old age fecal accident today and it scared her, causing her to trot from one bathroom to the other trying to control it. There go holiday preparations for another day. I always wondered when this would happen. I'm not surprised that I'm undaunted by it but I am completely surprised by, and grateful for my mother's aplomb. When I was cleaning her up, top to bottom, so to speak, I told her that I wanted her to know that doing this doesn't bother me, that I am glad I'm here for this, in fact, because I am "in a position" (and I intended the pun as I talked to her) to be able to clean her and the shit up better than she could. I also tried very hard to convey to her that I have a very philosophical attitude toward shitting accidents. I consider the human body a machine that occasionally needs such maintenance so I don't want her to be "afraid" of having them or so worried about them that when one occurred she didn't tell me about it until an even greater mess was made.
    I guess I needn't have worried. Her response was, "I know. I cleaned up after four little machines for several years."
    The gods bless my mother.

    My mother's doctor's appointment generated some concern. Not mortal concern, but, thank god, they took her excessive sleeping seriously and are setting her up for a daunting series of tests throughout the holidays (of course, why not add to the holiday fun) which begins tomorrow, as early as I can get her up for a fasting blood sugar.

    I'd better get to bed. I also have other stuff to do including finding a new phone and delivering boxes of Christmas goodies on behalf of my mother, who is no longer able to bake. She can look at a recipe for a good half hour and still not remember or understand how to do it.

    I don't watch much TV. I wasn't raised on it so I never got into the habit of watching it, although I occasionally have sessions where I am glued to the thing for a couple of days to see what the medium is producing, then it disappoints me and I stop. My mother however, oddly, loves TV, especially having it going on in the background. She also has certain shows that she watches religiously. So do I but I only have a few and it doesn't bother me to miss them. My mother plans her life around her shows and she's got at least a couple for every day of the week. I am my mother's TV show reminder. She gets pissed at me if I forget one of her shows.

    So, you know I'm back now (no tree, I guess that'll happen tomorrow) and I'm planning dinner, getting my mother up. She sleeps a lot, at least it seems so to me. It worries me sometimes but her doctor isn't worried and her health is not only not suffering, it continues to rally some, depending on whatever else she does or does not do...I guess at 84 she needs to catch up on all the sleep she lost when she was teaching and raising a family.

    So, how are you? I figured I'd give you a call this week, check in, see how Christmas is going. Mom, as you know, always remembers that it's Christmas, so I have to be a Christmas elf but that's okay, elves are known for being a little on the disgusting side and that suits me...