Sunday, May 9, 2010

MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I am my mother afterall!
The Saturday before Mother's Day, I drove to Columbus to visit my mom. I'd waited until Friday to call and tell her I was coming. Had I called earlier in the week, she would have been watching out the window and pacing, thinking I was arriving on the day we spoke. As it was, I called her when I arrived in town and she was surprised I was there.
Mom has dementia and it's become difficult to carry on a conversation with her. She will stop mid-sentence, as she did Saturday, and start talking about an unrelated topic. She's funny though. Her 90-year-old sister resides in a nursing home and Mom was trying to tell me about that situation. She kept saying, "She has, you know, that disease where people can't remember things. Now what's the name of that? You know, when people forget things all the time?" I asked if she meant "dementia" and she said, "Yes! That's what she has". Mom proceded to name a few others she thought had it too. Then said, "I don't think I have it though". Well I can admit I have some memory problems. I sometimes can't recall where I put my shoes, when I last took my allergy medications, or what I did with my glasses, book, pattern, etc. I sometimes search for words too - words that are common and often used.
Mom wanted me to re-thread her sewing machine, which I was happy to do, but when I looked at the cabinet, it was covered with little piles of this and that - a stack of small mail order booklets Mom can't bear to pitch, snippets of fabric leftovers from her lap robe projects, a procelain snowman she placed there at Christmas time, and a Christmas card box full of little pieces of paper. She took one look at the piles and said, "Let's let this go for another day". Hmmm, did I detect the procrastination gene at work? I know I have it and now I know who to blame. I told her I could work around the stacks. I re-threaded the sewing machine but as I was doing so, she left the room. How will she remember how to do it? She won't.
As for the little piles of stuff on her sewing machine cabinet - I don't have quite as many stacks as she, but I do have them. Mine are sewing related, as if that matters. When my sister came in, I took her to Mom's sewing area and said, "See where we get it?" She laughed and nodded in agreement. I also have a stack of mail on my kitchen counter, a basket full of this-and-that on top of my portable dishwasher (if it's in a basket, it's organized, right?), and a stack of paper sitting here in front of me at this desk. I can't be critical of Mom's clutter when I have so much of my own. Like mother - like daughter.
Mom asked me to open some plastic bins she stores under the sewing machine cabinet. When I saw what was in them I cringed. They were filled to the brim with flannel fabric "scraps", remnants from lap robe projects. Some were over a yard long and I realized she hadn't been using the fabric to full advantage. I buy flannel for her when I find it on sale and had, in fact, taken her three huge bags full of new flannel - sorted and matched.
I think making lap robes has begun to overwhelm her but she can't admit it. She wanted me to take all those scraps home. Instead, I suggested she and I go through them, match the fabrics we could, and make doll blankets or kitty cozies from them. She thought it was a good idea so that's how we spent most of the afternoon. She was happy I was giving her my time and I was thrilled to not be dragging home more fabric. I have quite enough of my own to use. I suggested she cut out squares and patch together some lap robes that don't have any particular pattern, in scrap quilt fashion. She didn't want to do that. I also inherited my mother's stubborn gene - received some of that from Dad too.
I received a glimpse into what my future might hold. I'll be a stubborn old crazy cat lady who has bins full of unused fabric, a sewing machine cabinet piled high with things I can't bear to get rid of, and I'll be thinking everybody has memory problems except me. Now let's see, where did I put my glasses?

5 comments:

QUILTING IS BLISSFUL, DI said...

OH Kady--I want to laugh at this post--and I want to cry--and I want to scream--not us Lord, please don't let this happen to us!!! Yet it is the way of things today--so we will make every moment count--whether we are quilting--playing with kitties -- or going downstairs to laundry as I am now!!!
Hugs, Di

Carmen The Olde FarmHouse Road said...

Bless your heart! Thanks so much for your kind comments and prayers for Lysha. She is looking so beautiful, doing great and is so loving and responsive. I don't understand animal or child abuse myself either.. it is just horrible. Got to be so sick to do either one! God Bless you and thanks for your actions against your animal abusing neighbor! Thanks! God Bless, Carmen

Cat Haven Craft House said...

Bless your heart for your patience! I am glad you had such a pleasant time with your mom. It is so sad time goes by so fast, but a blessing when we can have beautiful memories.

I was also wondering what a kitty cozy is? Smile, Cat Haven

Unknown said...

I had to laugh! Especially at the description of yourself at the end. Similar to mine except for the cats. Oh and the name of all of this is "Where Are The D***ed Muffins?" By the way, I talked with my stepfather last night after driving up to NC on Saturday and spending part of the day with him. He told me he had turned the heat up to 165 degrees since it was supposed to go down to 40 last night. I didn't even say a word since - thank God - the heat doesn't go that high LOLOLOL

Cat Nap Inn Primitives said...

I always love stopping here and reading what you have to say..you always make me giggle..cause we sound so much alike..;) I am happy you got to spend a great day with your mom..I sent my mom an orchid plant..she loved it!!!:)