Senior Moments to Remember…

A few weeks ago I went to my hometown to help take care of my 85 and nearly 88-year-old mom and dad. Each day, I sat and jotted some notes for my sisters, things like: Mom ate four of the keto pancakes. Much happier with food – well really butter and syrup. Or: Dad wants to paint the south side of the back fence but – his words: “The paint has to be from the free recycled paint center. Because paint is $50 a gallon these days! Holy Toledo!”

Sometimes I sat and my notes became what I now call “Senior Moments”. Little periods of time that I experienced with my “Senior” parents while I was home. Like most of my family’s stories, I want to load them into a bubble gum machine and insert a penny to relive anytime, anywhere.

Here you go:

Growing up, Mom taught us to use Bab-o Cleanser to scrub the sinks and tub. She told us “Girls, you can’t just sprinkle it in, you have to use elbow grease or it just won’t work.” We would scrub until the porcelain shined. Lately, when I see mom’s eyes lock on one spot I feel like sometimes she’s searching in her brain, scouring rather, with that same strong elbow grease trying to clean all of the age and forgetfulness that has robbed her of her memories of yesterday, and sometimes an hour ago.

SEWING… It’s kind of a blessing that Mom is so aware of what she doesn’t remember. Like the day we chatted about sewing, something she did effortlessly when we were younger, what with the volume of terry cloth shorts, prom dresses, and “quillows” a genius quilt-pillow combo my friend Mona’s mom gave me, and then my mom made her own pattern from it, and mass-produced dozens of them in all sizes. That was her go-to baby or wedding gift for years. Her sewing machine was always humming.

Mom said, “My memory is not so great anymore. I tried to use the sewing machine…and I just can’t remember how to thread it or get it going.” I quickly interject, in an attempt to keep her buoyant, “That’s why you taught us so well!” I say it while I hem a stack of Dad’s pants that have been rolled at the cuff waiting to be altered. Mom would have hemmed every one of them in under an hour and there I sat, filling the bobbin (which is like solving the Rubix cube), measuring once, sewing twice, ironing, and giving Mom my mistakes to rip the thread out like I used to do for her, although mom rarely had any do-overs.

Dad pops in, checking in on us, as he does, like a teacher taking role, he asks how it’s going. He measures Mom’s mood as he pats her back saying “How ya doin’ babe?!” Mom uses one of her old-timey sayings, “Fair to middling” (so-so). She goes on, “I just can’t get the machine going, but Lucretia is hemming your pants.” Again, I swoop in and jokingly say, “Dad, it’s a good thing you can’t see as well as you used because these pants are fair to middling as well, nothing like mom’s work.” He laughs because humor and sarcasm are fuel for him.

TV: As I sit with Dad and watch TV, it’s apparent he has embraced the voice-activated remote from Xfinity. Yet another long phone call my sister made to help our parents feel a little less tangled and more in control of what they can do. The previous remote was as big as an iPad with huge numbers and bright lights, but as Dad’s vision has gone from (his optimistic words) “still pretty good” to  “not too bad” – we now have the voice remote. The volume button is worn from where his thumb presses on it. Dad does that, he has a habit of rubbing his fingers together, something Grandma – his mom – also did. Some say it is a form of self-stimulation – a search for calm – self-soothing. One theory says it is thought to be a symbol of rubbing coins together which – with Dad I can see that being the case – ever the businessman, investment seeker, and relentless worker. Since I was little, I remember him holding a fishing pole, waving it back and forth, holding the line between his fingers in case we “got a bite”. It’s always “we” with Dad, rarely “I”. He is constantly in motion.

6:30 is Wheel of Fortune time and Mom asks for the volume to go up as she is convinced her ears are fine and “Dad can’t hear”. Suddenly Pat Sajak screams something about vowels and categories and Mom settles in, now able to hear the TV “just fine”.

After we watch Mom’s show, Dad speaks into the remote like a walkie-talkie, and says “Alaska”. Mom disappears as quickly as Vanna White did from the screen saying, “I just don’t like that Alaska Show.” She retreats into the dining room which is now the “puzzle room” and continues to tackle the 500-piece yard sale puzzle of a country scene with azaleas blooming and children riding bikes.

As Dad and I watch “The Alaska Show” I see why he enjoys it. He is literally watching people do what he loves: cutting wood, fixing what is broken, and respecting the land. A weathered-looking woman, a transplant from Minnesota preaches to her audience, “We have to work with the land, not against it.” A native Alaskan chimes in, “Yup, I grew up bit by bugs, burnt by the sun, wet from the rain. If you break from adversity, you come back stronger.” Dad nods heartily in agreement, happy to see the scenery and relieved people are out there appreciating hard work and the earth.

CONVERSATIONS: I am so grateful I can chat with Mom and Dad. Dad continually reminds me if our kids have any decisions to make, let it be their idea, their choice. And Mom has always guided me well. Most recently I had a dilemma where we had two commitments for our kids that overlapped. There she was, loaded with guidance and logical navigation. She helped me carry the weight of the plight that I just didn’t want to carry alone. I always feel better after I talk to her.

ROUTINE: Mom clings to her routine. Get the newspaper, water cucumbers, medicine, cereal, coffee, crossword, warm coffee, water tomatoes. When she heads out to water them she says, “Be back!” Dad yells, “Don’t drown them!” They both laugh. Those tomatoes get a lot of attention from mom and make her so happy. She tells me, “Dad calls these poppers because you just pop them in your mouth.” She smiles and laughs thinking of Dad as she picks a handful of little orange tomatoes that taste like a burst of sweet candy.

TRUE LOVE: Dad is incredible. So good to Mom. So kind and patient. Repeats conversations as needed. When she says “It seems like we haven’t watched this show in a long time!” Dad says “We keep forgetting to watch it on Fridays.” Rather than saying, they just saw it…he gives me a shrug that says, I’m gonna love this lady forever and I don’t care how many times she asks me the same question or what day it is or if we saw this or that episode of Golden Girls or Blue Bloods.

Mom is the same. Continually praising Dad for his memory of phone numbers and names. Reminding us that “We can still drive if I just tell Dad where to turn, but nobody believes us.” She reads the front page of the newspaper to him in the mornings and then the “obits” to “see if they are there.” During church, they hold hands lovingly, and I see them tightening their hold a little to keep each other awake. Thankfully there is still laughter and storytelling and even a little dancing, which is like watching Fred and Ginger Gitterbug to Johnny Be Good.

WHAT I LEARNED:

My kids always laugh at me if a song makes me cry. Like a “Cats in the Cradle Moment”. This is how it goes down:

“Watch this…” they tell each other before they play a song that they just know will yank the heck out of my heartstrings. Then they stare at me and boom! Tears. Ridiculous.

One of the latest songs that made me weepy is called Buy Dirt by Jordan Davis the words remind me of the life Mom and Dad are living. It feels like a sermon and a life to-do list that seems simple, yet at the same time impossible and may take over 80 years to accomplish.

So the way I see it, is if you can check off all the recommendations in a country song like this, well, you’re doing pretty alright, and thank God and country music, Mom and Dad are…`

Here are the lyrics and the checklist they’ve accomplished:

✅Find the one you can’t live without ✅Get a ring, let your knee hit the ground
✅Do what you love but call it work
✅And throw a little money in the plate at church
✅Send your prayers up and your roots down deep
✅Add a few limbs to your family tree
✅And watch their pencils marks ✅and the grass in the yard all grow up
‘Cause the truth about it is it all goes by real quick
You can’t buy happiness
But you can buy dirt”

These Senior Moments will go into all of the stories I have about Mom and Dad. Kind of like a greatest hits album of old songs and new.

As always, thanks for joining me,

Lucretia