Maudie
At first I thought it would get under her skin, but she embraced it and it became my favorite term of endearment for her. It was a little more grown up than "mom" and in recent years was a call for fun and mischief.
Maudie was resourceful, creative, loved her family with all her heart, a fidget, hated being inactive or bored, a great cook, snarky, funny, quick witted.
Her pastor said of her at the memorial "She had the gift of hospitality.". I always thought of her as Superwoman. She worked full time, had a family and ALWAYS thought about how to entertain and feed people for the next holiday. She was warm, gracious, welcoming, giving. Secretly...she loved to swear.
Oh Maudie, I miss you.
My grieving her is different. It's ....more mellow now. Alzheimer's Disease is hideous. It steals a person right out from under themselves. Bit by bit they unbecome who they are right in front of you. They don't understand how you can be fine one day and incompetent to drive your own car the next. And it's your child that is telling you that you are not who you think you are anymore. How can that be?
These are the things that simply gutted me, dropped me to the floor sobbing when I got home:
Setting up a driver's test so that the state could tell her she could no longer drive and I wouldn't be resented as the bad guy who took the car and keys away. Having to explain to her that she could no longer drive, then watch her face drop as she thought she would now be a burden to me, having to drive her places while also losing the freedom to just get up and go whenever she wanted. Her embarrassment, disappointment, sadness broke my heart.
Taking away her checkbook. Getting a conservator to handle all her money and bills. She had worked in banking for 26 years, always handled the household money and did it well. The fights over this broke me in half. Once she understood her money was safe, the fights stopped. I began to heal. We still gently bickered about the bank gift cards we used for everyday expenses. "Why can't I have my own cash?" I'd hear her say as I negotiated how much ice cream she'd buy at the grocery store. Two or three cartons was the weekly norm. She had to feed the kids too, never know when they'll drop by. She was hostess to hallucinated children, actually setting food out for them on the kitchen table. I saw this happen a few times. When in Alzheimer's land, you just roll with it. The key - buy cheap food for the hallucinations, minimize the hit to the wallet.
Setting up in home healthcare which she clearly did not want. I had to be able to work and not worry about her. I worked, and worried about her anyway. She tried to bribe the healthcare workers to leave early and not tell anyone. The offerings were cookies or promises of cash.
Of course they stayed, but they had to tell me about the shenanigans. They needed me to convince her to stop it for that day because she wasn't listening to them.
Mom wandering. Sure sign she could no longer live by herself at home. Now it was time for a "facility". Sadness rained down on me in torrents. This was real. It was moving quickly. I was losing her.
These are the moments I truly grieved losing my mom, watching her fade away in pieces right in front of me. She was scared, embarrassed, helpless, demeaned. She was also loving, trusting, funny and trying to make the most of every minute she had.
My heavy grieving is almost done. I know that as her primary caregiver my experience and grief will be different from others who knew and loved her. It's alright. Perhaps I'm a bit ahead of the curve to help others with a heavy heart who miss her too.
I will always miss my Maudie. She is truly the fabric of my heart.
A shot and a beer Maudie, some swearing too. xo