another step

I now have to tell my Mother to blow her nose.

support

I feel... like Mom's ship is sinking.
She's out there swimming.
She refuses to get on the lifeboat, those are for the elderly people.
She tells everyone who offers help that she is swimming just fine. But, she is really standing on me, I'm the one under water and floundering.
I feel like I can no longer hold her up.
I cannot tread water and support someone who won't reach for the buoys or the lifeboats.
She no longer knows how to swim, but she thinks she does.

Today two people held me up. Today two people let me hold on to the edge of their lifeboat.
Thanks to the stalwart visiting nurses and to friendly and knowledgeable insurance representatives.

scary

Sometimes when I'm with Mom, everything seems ok.
Sometimes she scares me.
When she stands there trying to figure out how to unzip her coat.
When she brushes her hair with the lint roller.
When she can't get her mail because her house key won't unlock her PO box.
When she gets into the car head-first.
When she asks for the fifth time in 30 minutes, how to write 2010 on a check.
When she doesn't know where to find the seat belt in the car.

what are you doing?

"What are you doing?" Mother asks me. She asks me this over and over when I am at her house.
Just gathering up the trash so we can go to the dump.
(Gathering up trash, dirty plates and cups from all over the house. Cleaning the cat box. Removing scary food from the refrigerator.)
"What are you doing?"
Just going to the bathroom.
(And look for any indication that you've used the soap or shampoo this week.)
"What are you doing?"
Helping you find your glasses, you said you lost your glasses.
(Ok Mom, I'll give you this one, I can't see my glasses without my glasses on either.)