2 July 2012
Severe weather warning: A deep depression has descended over
parts of Exmouth resulting in a severe frost in the air and a thick dark gloom.
Mum: I'm in agony: my back, my legs, my shoulders, my
hands, gruesome.
Me: Have you started taking the new pain killers?
Mum: No.
Me: What's your thinking behind that?
Mum: They can't do anything to help me?
Me: Who told you that?
Mum: I've got cancer!
Me: Yes, the doctor told me, it’s the size of a grain
of sand - it’s not going to kill you. Who told you they can't do anything about
the pain? Because, when I asked the nurse at the hospital last week, they said
it can be kept under control with the right medication. Has the doctor been to
see you?
Mum: No, I've still got the letter from the hospital
to give to him.
Me: Why haven't you called the doctor?
Mum: You don't know what I'm going through. I feel
ill.
Me: That is what the doctor is there for - for people
who feel ill.
Mum: I feel depressed.
Me: The doctor can help you with that too.
Mum: I don't want any pills.
Me: Why, if they make you feel better?
Mum: They'll make me sleep.
Me: (Thinks: we should be so lucky.) What's the
problem with that, if it makes you feel better?
Mum: No one has phoned me since I've come out of
hospital. What a bad mother I must be!
Me: (Ignoring the temptation to say, "Yes,
you're rotten mother".) Have you tried phoning them?
Mum: I know for a fact that your brother-in-law phones
his mother every Sunday at 10 o'clock.
Me: Not when I've been there visiting.
Mum: When they came over, they spent 10 days with his
mother and just two days with me.
Me: No, when they came over they rented an apartment
here in town
Mum: If they loved me they'd phone me.
Me: But if you loved them, you'd phone them.
Mum: What have I done to deserve this?
Me: (Decided not to tell her, it would take too long.)
You're the parent, its part of your job description to phone your kids - not
the other way round.
Mum: GET OUT!
3 July 2012
When I visit, mother always asks me, “Has anyone phoned
you?” This is code for “Have you spoken to your sisters?” I can truthfully say
“No”. I don’t count my sisters emailing me as “phoning me.” Of course, when my
sisters do phone her, she always asks them, “Have you spoken to anyone?” This is code for “What’s your brother been
saying about me?”
When my mother moves she never tells anyone her new address
or phone number. It’s a kind of test of how much you love her. People who
really love her would make the effort to find out her new address and phone
number without being told.
5 July 2012
Severe
frost warning. Arrived at mum’s and, as I passed down the corridor, I popped my
head around the kitchen door to say hello to the House Manager, who rolled her eyes at me. |I
knew mum would be timing me so went straight to her room. I’ve often noticed
that mother never says, “Hello” or “How are you?” but launches straight into
her “gruesome” routine.
Mum: I wish I’d never discharged myself
from hospital.
Me: But you didn’t discharge yourself
from hospital, they discharged you.
Mum; No they didn’t, I discharged
myself.
Me: No you didn’t. I kept your clothes
and money so you couldn’t discharge yourself. You left when the hospital said
you could leave. And they arranged transport for you.
Mum: I discharged myself the day they
woke me up and threw me out of bed.
Me: No you didn’t. You stayed in
another 2 days until the hospital discharged you.
Mum: Why must you always contradict me?
Me: Because what I am telling you is
the truth!
Sat
in silence for 5 minutes watching Jeremy Kyle on TV, “My daughter sold her body
for drugs”.
I
noticed that here was no sign of the second hand sewing machine mum had bought
and no sign of the blouse she was altering for her neighbour.
Me: You managed to finish that woman’s
blouse then? What happened to the sewing
machine you bought?
Mum: It’s in the bathroom. It’s not
working.
Me: Didn’t the electrician mend it?
Mum: No.
Me: So is your old machine working OK
now?
Mum: No. It’s not working.
Me: But it was working OK for you to
finish that woman’s blouse?
Mum: The pedal wasn’t working and the
electrician has taken it away.
Me: What do you mean? It was the pedal
from that other machine that wasn’t working – why did he take your old
machine’s pedal. Has he taken both pedals?
Mum: No, the other pedal is with the
machine in the bathroom.
Went
into bathroom and got out the second hand sewing machine. Opened it up. No foot
pedal.
Me: There is no pedal in here. Why has
he taken both pedals?
Mum: Shut up, you’re confusing me. Have
you spoken to “anyone”?
Me: No.
Mum: What have I done to be such an
awful mother? Your brother in law phones his mother every Sunday morning at 10.
Me: Have you phoned “anyone”?
Mum: Get out! You’re making my blood
pressure go up.
Went
along to kitchen to see the House Manager.
House Manager: You mother is driving me
mad!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Is she always like this?
Me:
I take it the honeymoon is over?
Why do you think she’s moved 46 times?
House Manager: And did she blow the
electrics at all the other 46 places? Because she’s blown them twice this week
with her sewing machines!
Mum: (Appearing out of nowhere – she
has been looking out the window and has been timing me.) What are you two
saying behind my back?
House Manager: Nothing Maggie. I talk
to all the residents’ family when they come. Now go and have a cup of coffee in
the lounge.
Mum
shuffles off.
House Manager: The foot pedal was
beyond repair so your mother asked the electrician to adapt the foot pedal from
her old machine for the new one. When she used it, she blew all the electrics
and we had to reset them. Then she had the nerve to say that it wasn’t her
fault because she hadn’t used the machine - even though there was material in
the sewing machine! And then she blew
the electrics again! I went down there and she said it wasn’t her fault; the
machine wasn’t working because the electrician hadn’t put a fuse in the
plug. But where you mother sits, next to
her sucking machine, there was a screw diver and a fuse!! She’d taken the fuse
out herself and plugged it in! But she still insisted it wasn’t her fault.
Me: I’m afraid my mother wouldn’t know
truth if it jumped up and hit her in the face.
Mum: (appearing out of nowhere) I don’t
want you talking to him!!! Tell him to get out!
House Manager: Maggie, I asked him to
come and see me so I could explain about the sewing machine.
Mum: I don’t want you telling him
anything. I don’t trust him.
House Manager: What do you mean you
don’t trust him? He’s your son. You need him.
Mum: I don’t trust him and I don’t need
him. I don’t want him coming here anymore.
Said
goodbye to House Manager and left.
Two
hours later, had a telephone call from mum:
Mum: I’m sorry to trouble you, but I
need some help. Why have they taken my sewing machine foot pedals away from me?
Where are they?
Me: They’ve taken the pedals away
because you keep blowing the electrics.
Mum: There was nothing wrong with my
old sewing machine.
Me: Yes there was, you made the
electrician adapt the foot pedal for your new machine that didn’t work. And
that pedal also blew the electrics.
Mum: I need a sewing machine to do my
curtains and bedspread.
Me: You’ve already done your curtains
and bedspread. You don’t need a sewing machine.
Mum: I’ve got sewing to do for the
other neighbours.
Me: No you haven’t. You’ve finished
that lady’s blouse.
Mum: Well I’m going down to the Singer Sewing
Machine shop to buy a new one.
Well,
I don’t know where she thinks a Singer Sewing Machine shop is. There wasn’t one when we last looked in telephone
book. And besides, I have her money, cheque book and bank card!
7 July 2012
Had
a phone call from where mum lives to be told that my mother is:
Bitter,
twisted, angry, selfish, unkind, cruel, manipulative, argumentative and a
pathological liar, who has destroyed the happy atmosphere of the Home. And on
top of that she has a face like a sour lemon.
It
all started when mother couldn’t get her TV to work. House Manager spent 45
minutes fiddling with it before remembering that mum had had the same problem
before, and it was discovered that mum had plugged the aerial into the wrong
socket. Sure enough, the same thing had
happened again. Mum denied all knowledge of doing this and flew at House
Manager. She then accused House Manager of taking away her sewing machine
leads, demanded them back and threatened to report House Manager to the
Trustees. At which point, House Manager had to leave to go and serve lunch. At
lunch, the little old lady who has befriended mum asked casually how mum’s sewing
machine was. Mum went ballistic and gave her a real lashing with her tongue. House
Manager had to order mum back to her room. The poor old lady is still in shock
and is refusing to come out of her room.
House
Manager doesn’t have the authority to withhold mum’s property and has to give mum
the leads back if mum asks for them. However, as mum’s “sponsor” and next of
kin, I do have the power to withhold them. I have told House Manager not to
give them back to mother. And to tell mother that I’ve taken them away. House
Manager has bent over backwards to help mum, in her own time, and had even
offered to help mum buy a new pedal. I’ve told her not her to. If you give mum
an inch, she’ll take a mile. The House Manager agreed.
Mother
has said that if the House Manager tells me what has happened, then she’s going
to kill herself. (Which would at least save a trip to the assisted dying clinic
in Switzerland.)
Anyway,
if someone threatens to kill themselves, the House Manager has to report it to
the chair of Trustees. I asked House Manager if the time had come for us to
have mother assessed by a psychiatrist.
At which point House Manager said that if we didn’t, she’d end up in a
straight jacket herself.
The
House Manager had thought that mum’s behaviour, attitudes and emotions were the
result of bereavement. She now knows
that mother is like this – period. She is horrified by the way mum treats me
and asked how I cope. I said I just keep thinking about the royalties that will
be pouring in when my blog is published.
I assured the House Manager not to take it personally and not to give in
to manipulation or guilt.
The
House Manager asked how dad managed to cope with her. I said he switched off,
slept a lot, didn’t talk much and took her shopping whenever she wanted.
House
Manager also commented on how demanding mum is. She wants things done NOW. And
if House Manager dare suggest that she’ll come back and do it another time, mum
gives her one of her looks that could kill, and her lips curl up into a snarl. For
the first time in her career the House Manager is dreading going to work
Mum
is looking in the local paper for a flat to rent.
9 July 2012
My middle sister called mum. No answer so she left a message
asking how mother was. 15 minutes later mother called her back. No mention of
the fact that my mother had not spoken to my sister for the past 6 months nor
any mention of my sister’s husband phoning his mother every Sunday at 10am. No “Hello”
or “How are you?”, mother launched straight into how ill she is, that she has
cancer (they can't do anything), how depressed she is, how people park their
cars outside her window and how people are complaining about her sewing machine
interfering with their TV. However, the food was lovely and every day is a
bonus.
As my sister said, the good thing about speaking with mother
is that it is always a monologue; you can put her on loudspeaker and get on and
do some housework, clean out the cupboard under the kitchen sink etc. Some jobs
just seem so less unpleasant when you’re talking to mother.
10 July 2012
Me: (Kisses mum's
forehead.) How are you?
Mum: All my bones
are aching?
Me: Has the nurse
been this week?
Mum: No.
Me: When is she
supposed to be coming?
Mum: She doesn't
come any more.
Me: W hy is that?
Mum: I told her
not to. I just want to die but I can't do it myself because that would be a
sin.
(Me- thinking "Is
that a worse sin than all your others like lying, going into a rage, being
horrible to your children etc?")
Mum: I haven't
got anything to live for and now I can't sew. They've taken my leads away. I
want to give both my machines to a Charity Shop - they both work.
(Me- refraining from
saying, “No they don't because the pedals are burnt out.”)
Mum: I want to
keep the table though. I've been sewing all my life. I had been sewing here for
5 months before anyone complained.
(Me- refraining
from saying she’d only lived here 2 months.)
Mum: The
man upstairs said it was interfering with his TV but I wasn't even sewing then
- I was watching TV. I don't like being blamed.
Me: Nor do I. (!)
Mum: The lights
went out in the hall and they said it was my machine. There must be a fault
with the electrics.
Me: Well maybe
it's a good thing you haven't got your leads because if the man's TV has
interference or the lights go wrong now, then they will know it's not your
fault and they will apologise.
Mum: (Puts hand
to ear.) I'm a bit deaf - I didn't hear that.
Me: (Repeats previous sentence.)
Mum: It's too
late for them to apologise. They treat me like I'm an imbecile.
(Me- thinking “Don't
behave like a child then.”)
Mum: When I went
to lunch, I stopped to talk to whatshername, the bossy one, and she told me to
sit down. I said to her "Don't tell me what to do - I'm talking to someone
else." The cook came in and told me off for talking that way.
(Me- Thinking “I
won't argue about this although I know the manager House Manager's version is a
bit different.”)
Mum: I want to
move but it's too much for me to manage.
Me: (Hands over
envelope with some money in it.)
Mum: Why have you
brought this?
Me: In case you
need any shopping.
Mum: I'll put it
with the other money - you’ll need it when I die. I don't know if anything has
been arranged for my Birthday but if it has I want it be cancelled.
Me: I'm not sure
how far organising things here has gone. You might change your mind by then
anyway.
Mum: No I won't.
Me: Well we’re
taking you out for lunch - becoming 90 is a special day.
Mum: No I don't
want to do anything that day. If you come round I will be out. I don't want you
coming to me again – you’ve gone behind my back, talking to the House Manager.
(Me- thinking “It's
no good arguing about that. And what about the times she’s spoken about her
children behind their backs?”)
Me: I've just
been to the dentist for a check up and I'll be back on Thursday afternoon for a
filling. I had planned to come and see you again then. Is that alright?
Mum: No I don't
want you to come and see me again. (Here we go again.) I'll be alright.
Me: Does that
mean you don’t want to celebrate my birthday next week?
(Mum shakes her
head and looks at clock which says 12:15.)
Me: Is it time
for lunch?
Mum: Yes I'll be
going along there in a minute.
Me: I'll go home
then. So you don't want me to come and see you again?
Mum: No I don't.
Me: OK, I won't
come unless you ask. You can always phone if you change your mind. (Kissed Mum
on forehead and left.)
Later that day – a phone call:
Mum: I just want
to apologise. I need your help. I’ve had a letter from the bank and I don’t
know what it means.
Me: OK. I’ll see
you later in the week
11 July 2012
Me: Hello mum.
Mum: They won’t
let me use my sewing machine. I’ve been sewing all my life.
Me: They are not
stopping you sewing, it’s just that you can’t use these sewing machines.
Mum: I want you
to take them down to the charity shop.
Me: There’s no
point in taking something to a charity shop that doesn’t work!
Mum: Of course
they work
Me: They don’t
work. You made the man cannibalise
the electric plugs so neither of them work.
Mum: He wasn’t a
proper sewing machine man – he was just a fridge repair man.
Me: No. He was a
proper qualified electrician. If he wasn’t, why would you ask a fridge repair man
to cannibalise the electric leads?
Mum: Well I’ve
got a man coming to see them next week.
Me: What for?
You’ve just told me to take them to a charity shop!
Mum: I don’t need
your help
Me: Do you need
any shopping?
Mum: I’ll do my
own shopping.
At that point I left and warned House Manager that a “man”
was coming. The House Manager knew nothing of this, mainly because mum is
refusing to speak to her. Made a point of using the side gate to leave, so that
mum wouldn’t see me walk across the carpark to the bus stop. She probably
thinks I’m still there, talking behind her back with House Manager. House
Manager is going to arrange a surprise birthday party for mum, including a cake
– despite mum’s protestations. Will mum be able to raise a smile? Will she
thank House Manager? Let’s see.
27 July 2012
I just love taking mum shopping for clothes. The perfect opportunity for revenge.
As we got into the lift at the multi-story car park, mum confessed
her fear of lifts. When the doors closed, I shouted, “boo”, at which point we
nearly saved the expense of sending her to an assisted dying clinic Switzerland.
I took her to the make-up counter at John Lewis, “Excuse me,
my mother is going speed dating next week, can you do anything with her face?
Botox? Anything? I’m desperate to get her off my hands.”
Took her in to Miss Selfridge, “Excuse me, I’m a fashion
guru and I’m doing a make-over with this women. What have you got in canary
yellow?”
Into the Ladies’ Department of M&S, “Excuse me, I’m a
personal shopper – what have you got for women “of a certain age”? She took one
look at mum & said, “I think you want the “classic” collection upstairs.
“Is that where you keep things for old people?”
We had to stop twice during our shopping trip for mum to be
fortified with a brandy and coke. The first time, she put in hardly any coke.
“Aren’t you going to use up that coke?” “No. It’ll go straight to my head.” She
said, promptly swallowing down the nearly neat brandy!
Took mum into Debenhams to look for a handbag. She couldn’t
make up her mind and I had several over my arm when mum decided she needed the
toilet. With various hand bags on my arm I waited for mum to return. Nothing.
No sign of mother. Still carrying the handbags, I took the elevator up two floors
to the ladies’ toilet. Opening the door to the ladies’ toilet, I shouted, “Is
there a Maggie Napper in there?” Then I spotted her at the other end of the Department. Instead of going up to the top floor, she’d
pressed the down button and got off in the basement, and had to find her way
back up again and then got lost.
I took mum to the Ladies’ Department to buy a new blouse. By
now mum was suffering the effects of two double brandies and I was left to do
all the talking. I explained to the assistant that we wanted a blouse that was
quite high fitting around the neck, because my mother had a tracheotomy. To
confirm what I said, mum lifted up the scarf around her neck and showed the
woman the hole in her throat. At which point the poor woman nearly fainted with
shock!!!!
Next, mum wanted some underwear, so for a joke I took her into Ann
Summers. What colour was in my mother’s cheeks drained at the realisation that
she was in a soft porn clothes shop.
In every shop we went into, she told the assistant how she
used to make clothes for that shop. Personally, I don’t think Primark existed
when she worked as a tailoress in the 1950s.
Eventually we found her a handbag and two blouses.
30 July 2012
Two phone calls from the Home. They are pulling their hair
out. They have arranged a buffet tea for mum’s 90th Birthday. She
doesn’t want them to have anything to do with her birthday. She doesn’t want to
celebrate her birthday. If they try to do anything she will walk out, get on a
bus and run away. I reassured them that this was normal for mum and told them
about the 40th Wedding Anniversary fiasco when she and dad ran away
and disappeared for 3 months.
31 July 2012
Had a phone call from the Deputy Manager. They are
exasperated with mum regarding the planned birthday celebration today. All the
residents are geared up for a party but mum is refusing to attend. They want to
know what they should do with all the birthday food they’ve prepared. We
decided to use the food, but plate it up rather than have a buffet, and the residents
should drink the champagne anyway.
Phone call from the House Manager. Although it’s her day
off, she’s had a phone call from the Deputy Manager who is very upset with
mum’s attitude. I told her that we’d carry on without mum if necessary. (It
would probably be more enjoyable without mum anyway.)
Arrived at mum’s with her birthday cards that had arrived by
post. (I have all mum’s post redirected to me. She always opens birthday cards
as soon as they arrive rather than wait until her birthday, just in case she’s
not alive on the day to open it.) Mum
was still insistent that she did not want to celebrate her birthday. However,
as she begins to open the cards from her grandchildren and the House Manager,
she begins to melt. If fact she receives 31 cards in total!
Then the bouquet of
flowers arrive with love from all her children. My youngest sister had also had
the forethought to send a bouquet of flowers on behalf of dad. Mum was
definitely starting to melt.
Other residents start to pop in to wish her happy birthday.
One of the residents, who she can’t stand, gave mum a brooch. Mum is feeling
loved, and thinks maybe she will celebrate her birthday after all.
Took mum out for lunch at a
Pub on the River Exe. Whenever the conversation started to become critical (i.e.
why she can’t use her sewing machine anymore, or the fact that my
brother-in-law not only phoned his mother every Sunday at 10am but also personally
visits her every year on her birthday, I changed the subject and talked about
family history. Mother said, “My father died when I was 12. Did you ever meet
him?”
Took mum back home so that
she could have a siesta before the birthday tea.
5pm.
Mum was overcome with emotion and very tearful and not sure she could face
people. But I managed to coax her out of her room. Got her to the communal
lounge for a glass of wine or sherry. In the dining room the staff had arranged
a separate table for mum, my wife and myself. The helium balloon we’d bought
was in place (although mum wanted to let the gas out and send it to my grandson).
A beautiful cake was on the table and a delicious selection of buffet food was on
plates. We opened the Champagne to drink her health. The woman who didn’t want a party said, “I
wish I’d got some beer in for the men. What sort of birthday cake is this? I
would have done a fruit cake. Why are we having champagne, why can’t we have a
cup of tea? That man keeps winking at me.”
To change the subject I stood up and in a loud voice said,
“Ok, which one of you is winking at my mother?
Hands up who wants to be my new dad.” I assured mum, that if she wanted to remarry,
I’ had no objection. Then one of the old men got up and made a speech. It was
so kind of him. These are all such kind and gracious people. They don’t deserve
my mother.
For her birthday, I bought her a large box of water colour
paints so that she could stop herself going crazy and have something creative
to do.
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