Not-Mom Came Back Today

Today Not-Mom appeared. I haven’t seen her in a while and was beginning to wonder if she’d taken an extended vacation. I came into the kitchen after my workout as Mom was finishing up last night’s dishes. (Note to self: always make sure the kitchen is cleaned up before going to bed, because getting up to dirty dishes in the sink puts her in a bad mood). As I began preparing breakfast, Not-Mom launched into me about how my siblings and I are trying to “deep-six” her by not letting her drive. “I don’t know why I have to take a driving evaluation! Have I ever scared you when I’ve been driving?” I deferred answering that question and tried to helpfully suggest that perhaps we ought to let the driving evaluator make the determination about her driving. “I have no doubt I’ll pass,” she insisted. “That’s fine,” I said. “When that happens I’ll not say another word about it.” She ranted for several more minutes while I busied myself with poaching my eggs and not saying anything. I have learned one important lesson: it is pointless to try to reason with someone who has dementia, they just don’t get it. I told her that I called the driving evaluator yesterday and left a message. I shouldn’t have said this, but I reminded her that she had been carrying the driving evaluation referral form around in her purse for 3 weeks and that was why we hadn’t been able to schedule her driving appointment. She wouldn’t let Sioux have it when Sioux took her for her cognitive evaluation last month and insisted she didn’t have it when I asked about it. I saw it when she opened her purse at the doctor’s office on Thursday. A few days later I encouraged her to look in her purse for the referral and while she was pulling out the flotsam and jetsam from her purse – all the while protesting she didn’t have it – she “discovered” it. She received a death benefit check today then went upstairs into the office and puttered around through the files for about an hour or two, later telling Larre that she wanted me to teach her how to use the computer so she could manage her own finances. Poor dear, it’s not going to happen, I thought. I spent two hours several weeks ago in a futile attempt to show her how to access her email, bank accounts and pay bills online. I could have accomplished the same tasks in 5 minutes. Even when I create easy step-by-step illustrated instructions (and my documentation is quite good – I’ve done it in a corporate setting for my job), like I did with her Facebook account, she gets confused and frustrated. So I found a blank ledger book and took it to her. “How about you keep the accounts manually on paper and I’ll keep a backup on the computer,” I said. “I’ll print out your bank transactions and you can record them here," referring to the ledger. She seemed to warm to this idea. “The library is offering computer classes, I think,” Mom said hopefully. “I’ll sign up for a class.” Nodding reassuringly, I know she will never go, never learn how to use the computer, and probably lose interest in the ledger within a few weeks.  I think she knows her mental capacities are diminished, is in denial about it, and disturbed at the prospect. No one wants to feel like their mind – once vibrant and so in control – is slipping away. I see the child behind her eyes stomping her foot and screaming, “I can do it myself!”