Thief

I had some things stolen while I was gone. I just hate a thief! Thieves and Liars! Hate them both! However, this thief is about 4'10" and answers to the name "Come and Eat!" Yes, she stole several things from my living room while I was away (and in my mind, I still am). She just "wanted them to be with her". Okay......WTH?

Biloxi

Dear Moma,
I am in Biloxi with my husband....you know the one who makes you mind when no one else can. We are having so much fun! I  really don't want to come home, so pardon me when I SNAP your head off! I will be home when I get there. Don't hold your breath!

Time

We have now lost all concept of time. "What time is it?" I show her the clock. "But what time is it?" Sigh.....

This morning she knocked on one of our 3 bedroom doors. Kerry told her to go back to bed. She walked around to the other door and knocked again. She thought she had waited.

She  has lost the ability to grasp 1:45. You have to tell her "15 minutes until 2:00".

She never knows if it is morning or night. (Hello? Look out the window!)

I know I sound mean...(and I am), but it is really about time for the Lord to call her home. She wanders around my house lost. She still messes and rambles, but she is just a shell. My grandmother is gone. I am weary. Pray.

Huh?

Rebekah enters the room.
Moma: Wooooo Hoooo! Where you a goin'?
Rebekah: to rehearsal
Moma: Where?
Rebekah: to rehearsal!
Julie and Rebekah attempt conversation.
Moma: Julie, where's she a goin'?
Julie: Moma, she has play practice.
Moma: What? I didn't understand you.
Julie: She is going to play practice!
Moma: Oh.....
Julie and Rebekah attempt more conversation (including the passing off of hard earned money)
Moma: Becky, where you goin'?
Julie: MOMA! She is going to rehearsal!
Moma: a concert?
Julie: yeah
Time passes after Rebekah leaves.
Moma: Julie, where did Becky go?
Julie: TO REHEARSAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Moma: to a concert?
Julie: YES!
Sigh..........................................................

Threats!

Tonight, I was cooking fresh peas, meatloaf and frying fresh okra. Moma was under my feet driving me crazy! I do not handle cooking all that stuff by myself well. I didn't have an egg for the meatloaf, so I texted my friend, Cheryl, for a substitute. She sent me a link to lots of substitutes, not knowing I was elbow deep in ketchup and ground beef (gag), so I just plopped a spoonful of  mayonnaise in it. Cheryl nearly died when I told her. Kerry Payne did NOT marry me for my cooking/cleaning skills! ANYWAY......Moma found my granola bars I had bought for my breakfast. She wrestled one out of the box (destroying the box, I might add) She ate maybe 1/3 of it, then proceeded to wrap the rest up, like she loves to do. I reached for it, saying I'd put it up for her. She jerked the bar away from me, then stuck her nasty little hand in my face. I pushed her hand away, and it hit the refrigerator. She said, "I'll slap the shit out of you!" In my mind I said, "Do it and I'll flip you over backwards in that chair little missy", but what I really said was "You try it, sister!" I really needed to get my walk in tonight so that the visions of doing my family harm would be freed with my stress from my new job situation, but it didn't happen. If it weren't for the grace of God, I'd be a Mountain View resident!

Hypertension

If you were to check my blood pressure right now, I would be on my way to the ER (where my co-pay there has been raised to $150.00!!! Thanks to our legislators like Sen. Phil Williams who think teachers have had it too good for too long.....Hope you enjoyed this term!) I am experiencing this RAGE like when I took birth control pills many moons ago. I seriously want to kill everyone in my path......and guess who that includes? Little Precious woke me up BANGING, not knocking, BANGING on my bedroom door. "I want some breakfast!!!!!!!!!!!!" No details, I fed her. No talking, that is how I like it when I wake up, so I went to the laundry room while she ate. When I came back up, she was back in bed. NICE! I was thinking that this might be a good day. I started cleaning house and doing laundry like a maniac trying to divert this rage to a positive path. She got up and I fed her lunch. I vacuumed while she ate, hoping for the same scenario. But I couldn't  be that lucky twice in a row. She began to follow me, making her precious suggestions and "helping" me. She used her bionic arm to rearrange things. I was trying to get some of Rebekah's things from her college apartment put up since she won't be moving back into another apartment. I moved her chest into Mildred's room, (a) for lack of anywhere else to put it and (b) to give her more room to put some of her things (and she does love to ramble through a drawer). She went off like I had moved the deep freeze in there. Finally, I screamed in her face "I don't have anywhere else to put it, and you will just have to live with it, like I live with YOU!" From behind the bathroom door, Rebekah said, "Mother, calm down!" Grrrrrrr......(can't address her today). Then she followed me back into the living room where she made suggestions that basically would have had everything in the room shoved up against the inside wall so "there would be more room. (For what? dancing?) I told her no. As I began boxing books, she was using her bionic arm to prowl through a trash bag. Without batting an eye, I stomped over to her and literally jerked her up by her arm, and hauled her out of the living room, gritting my teeth, saying "Getthehelloutofhere!". It has been a day with Miss Mildred today, and I realize that part of it was me and my strange mood, but I feel my blood pressure rising just typing this, so I am going to let it rest. If you pray, mention me.

Lost as a Goose

Today, she is lost. Nothing more, just lost.

Mildred the Grouch (Oscar ain't got nothing on her)

Several times I have caught myself saying "I couldn't hate her more right now". That is horrible, but please note, it is a perfectly NORMAL feeling when you live with an elderly person with dementia. Don't guilt yourself out. Embrace it. I saw my former neighbor today, and she asked about Moma. "How in the world do you cope?" she asked. Without batting an eye, I said, "I drink". I should have added, "I cuss too". This past few days has been BAD. She  has been awful. I am just not up to sharing all the specific details, so I am going to list some things for you to illustrate her crabbiness.

• Sticking out her tongue at me every time I correct her.
• Put her fingers in her ears while Rebekah and I were trying to reason with her, and saying "nanananananananananananananananananananananaananananananana" 
• Griping about not having food as good as everyone else's. (She had a junior cheeseburger)
• Questioning why she was served tea and everyone else had Dr. Pepper. (I am the only one who had Dr. Pepper, my family drinks tea with meals. I don't like it.) I wanted to say, "Because I poisoned the tea!"
• Peeing in her pants on purpose and then screaming at me to get her some more clothes.
• Accused me of treating her like "she ain't got no sense". (She doesn't)
• Told the nurse not to believe anything I say because I am a damn liar.
• Also told the nurse that she felt "Won-da-ful" and when I questioned her about her dizzy spells and complaining of something being bad wrong, she said, "Awww I just tell you that".
• FeedingthedogsFeedingthedogsFeedingthedogsFeedingthedogsFeedingthedogs!!!!!!!
• Greedy more than ever with food
• Hit Shula with the cane when I told her not to feed him, and screamed "GET AWAY FROM ME!"
• Lied and told Rebekah that we had not gotten her a sandwich, wanting Rebekah to share hers. (Rebekah came in late from practice)
• Ate pizza that she HATES for spite because I told her she had already eaten when Christopher fixed his lunch. She took her sweet time eating, and looking at me with that smirk as if to say,  "Watch me"

There are several more things that I simply cannot remember because she is wearing me out. I have to go back to work tomorrow and dread it for the first time since I have been in middle school. But the ONE precious thing about tomorrow, is that Connie will be here and I won't (and Moma doesn't like Connie) SWEET!

The morning after

After Moma cleaned off the deck in her gown, housecoat, and Sunday-go-to-meeting shoes, she showed up at breakfast the next morning like this. I have learned not to even ask. She lives in a galaxy far, far away.

My Little Helper

Moma loves to rearrange things on the deck! She drives me crazy!
Note: Please don't miss the Sunday shoes! Don't ask....no clue.

Mildred Magoo

Sometimes, I can just look at Moma and realize that she is in her Mr. Magoo mode. I used to call it Millicent because back then she was just sweet but lost as a goose. Sweet no longer exists in any personality! Today after her 1st nap, she came into the den where I was reading, and patted my shoulder. "Hey Lady.....can you help me?" She had asked me this earlier when she had wet her clothes and entered the bathroom with me naked as the day she was born. So, cringing, I turned to look at her. Whew! She was clothed, but she said, "Will you see after me?" I nodded and motioned for her to sit down. She was quiet for a moment but then sat up and said, "JULIE! What kin are you to me and Sherry?" WHAT? Really? You live with me, but you remember my sister? Seriously? I told her that I was Sherry's sister. She said, "I didn't know that!" After a few minutes of silence (you could almost see the wheels turning), she sat up and hollered "What happened to my husband?" Being the smart-a** that I am, I said, "Which one?" She said, "How many did I have?" I said, "Several" She sat up and hollered, "Well where in the hell are they?" I'll admit, I almost had to leave the room on that one. I told her that they were dead. After a longer period of silence, she sat up and said, "I ain't got no sense! I'm a going to bed!" This was no news to me.

Just tolerating each other

My house is in full blown chaos. The living room is filled with Rebekah's stuff from her apartment, with no place to put it until she moves into dorm. I rearranged the furniture in the den and no one likes it. Christopher is in the process of getting his room together after 10 years of filth, sitting unfinished (and will for another 10). I have ignored laundry for like a month. So, it is a royal mess. (God forbid Moma die, and people want to come by to pay respects! I'd have to meet them at the door. But I do have Cheryl and Dawn on stand-by if that were to happen) Anyway....I'm a touch grouchy. I know what I need to do. I realize what I should do. BUT I DON'T CARE about any of it. (Enter major rehab and detox-not from drugs, from the junk I eat that is poisoning my body)
I said all of that to say this: Moma and I are just tolerating each other. We have each made it clear that we don't really like each other at this juncture. She cusses. I cuss. She yells. I yell. She demands and I....do what she tells me to (and raise hell in my head!)