Doing the Best I can

It's so frustrating to be in New Jersey while mom is in Florida. My sister is doing a yeoman's job visiting her almost every day so I know, intellectually, that mom is fine. Emotionally, however, I feel guilty for not being there. I've been trying to keep in contact with mom to give her some small joy via the phone and to make sure she doesn't forget me, but it hasn't been easy. I can't call an hour before, during, or after a meal because the aides are busy either giving medications or serving or cleaning up after a meal. When I call after the meal is over, mom is already having a nap. It's been difficult to coordinate the calls with our schedule and hers.

Tonight I finally got through to her. It was after her dinner, around 5:40 or so. I suggested to Dee, the aide, to put the phone to mom's only good ear...the one with the only remaining hearing aid...and to remove the hearing aid. Now I'm stricken with thoughts that I should call back and be sure they put it back in before it, too, gets lost. No wonder I have belly fat. They say stress is the cause and I've had my share. Anyway, I also mentioned to Dee to keep an eye on mom as sometimes she either can't hear as the phone has slipped or we are finished with our conversation and mom doesn't know how to turn off the phone...thus keeping me captive for a long, long time listening to mom saying "No, no, no, no, no, no" until they come to the rescue and take the phone away after we have said our tenth goodbye. Not that I mind spending the time talking with her but when the conversation diminishes to very loud, desperate "Oh no, no, no", it's best to end it before she becomes more agitated.

The call went swimmingly at first. Mom could hear and she was delighted to hear my voice as I was hers. As always, I struggled for conversation topics to which she could relate. I asked her if she had enjoyed a good dinner. After all, it was only 20 minutes at most since her last bite so I figured it was a good conversation opener. She said, "I haven't had a bite to eat". Having been there before I didn't try to convince her that she indeed had eaten her dinner. I said I hoped she would enjoy whatever they gave her later.

I told her I was enjoying my new favorite cocktail, an Appletini. She struggled with this information for awhile but was determined to get it straight. She finally did repeat it correctly and said she wished she could be with me having a cocktail right now. I hesitated to explain that it was a type of Martini fearing she would launch into her long-standing position that she never liked it when Dan, her husband, had a martini. However, she listened to the description and didn't get upset. In fact, she said it sounded delicious!

I told her Dave (my husband, her favorite) was at the grocery store buying chili powder for the chili I was making. She said, "Well, you have to have chili powder to make a good chili." Again, she said it sounded delicious. I think the next time I have her over to the house I'll make her chili for dinner. She prides herself on not being a fussy eater. I complimented her and said she raised us all up right as none of us are fussy eaters either. Well, my brother is fussy when you think about it. The rest of us eat everything. Where he came from, we're not sure. Anyway, we congratulated ourselves on our appreciation of all food and drink.

I told her she was a very good mother. She said, "I'm not so sure." I convinced her that she was as I had a very good childhood. This took about 5 minutes of repeating and explaining but she finally got it and was happy that I thought so. I realize that with each call or visit it may be the last opportunity I have to tell her how wonderful she is. I don't want regrets after she is gone. I don't want thoughts or words to remain unspoken. I want her to know that I love her so I tell her often. She usually tells me the same in return. Funny thing is, I don't think we spoke verbally of our love for each other until this last year. My parents were loving in their actions but not in their spoken words per se. They told us we were wonderful and perfect and a great joy in their lives but the actual words, "I love you" were not spoken. At least I don't remember it. I remember feeling a little awkward the first time I told her out loud. In the beginning she would say, "thank you". Now, she freely repeats her love for me and I treasure hearing it. Sometimes when I visit her and tell her my feelings she doesn't say anything. I find myself repeating it again and again until she responds. Sometimes I have to leave not hearing those beautiful words. They are in my heart though and I hear them there.

The phone call deteriorated as she became tired. I wanted to end it but the aide was nowhere in sight. Then I heard Marguerite saying to mom, "It's your daughter. Talk to your daughter." Mom said, "I'm not happy and want to go home and get out of this place." Here I am a thousand miles away and she says, "You caught me at a bad time as I am so unhappy." I tried to discern why she was unhappy but it was futile. She must have put the phone down on her lap as there was silence for a minute or two. Then Marguerite put the phone back up to her ear and she said, "Hello." I said, "Hi, mom, it's Nancy." "Oh, hi dear", she said. Like we hadn't spoken at all earlier. I was given an opportunity to make her happy all over again. So I did.