Mom is sewing up a storm. Every other day, the Activities Director knocks on Mom’s door and has some mending for her to do. When Mom tells me this, she pretends it’s a bit presumptuous of her, but I think she is loving the attention. Mom has always had a love/hate relationship with sewing. On the one hand, she loves the challenge and creativity involved. But on the other hand, she hates the drudgery of alterations and mending. I know the Director is probably searching out sewing jobs for Mom to keep her engaged and busy.
When I called her a few days ago, Mom said, ‘I made myself an apron from some material your sister dropped off’. ‘An apron? Why do you need an apron’? Mom replies, ‘well, it’s a bib, really. I made one for myself and everyone at my table’. I can’t believe my mother is willing to wear a bib — even the instigator of wearing a bib at mealtime.
Wow. I don’t even know what to say about that.
Yesterday I joined Mom for an early Thanksgiving meal prepared by her facility. When we arrived downstairs, she handed out a few more bibs to appreciative fellow residents. It got a little comical as Mom couldn’t remember which women had asked for bibs. One woman got one and didn’t know why. Another resident wanted to know why she didn’t get one. It was kind of funny, and I think Mom will be making a few more this week; maybe everyone will be wearing a bib the next time I join her for lunch. The dining room was overflowing into the hallway as family members and guests gathered for this lovely dinner. I did notice that Mom did NOT wear her “apron” for this meal. The bibs evidently are saved for regular, no-guests-present, kind of meals. Good for you, Mom. You had me worried there for a minute.
Health wise Mom is doing very well. After some routine blood work, the doctor put her back on thyroid medicine (her weight gain was also evident that something wasn’t quite right). She has made great progress over the last 3 months, and we are happy about her renewed strength.
Her memory is still playing tricks on her. The sequence of events and remembering recent happenings are still her biggest struggle. She is guarded when questioned because she has caught on that those are her weaknesses. Visits with her are taxing because she has become quiet. Quiet is not an adjective that would ever have described my mother in the past. She answers questions when personally addressed, but she does not initiate most conversations.
I think we were prepared for the memory lapses as we thought that was the definition of dementia, but this whole new personality change has us all a bit perplexed. It’s like getting to know someone new. And that’s okay. Three months ago, we didn’t think Mom was going to live.
I have much to be thankful for this year. So many blessings. And the biggest and best is my mother will be sitting at our Thanksgiving Dinner table.
I wonder if she’ll bring her apron?