I missed another week of blogging.  I can attribute my AWOL status to several things - one of which was reading a "tips on blogging" article that said:  Never blog about the same thing twice.  This caused me to review my previous posts and the fact that when you are dealing with a confused octogenarian... you continually deal with the same things, over and over.  Likewise, when you blog about living with said confused octogenarian - every post may sound the same.  I can attest, nearly every day feels the same.  So to address the subject more thoroughly... I present:

Episode 43 - Frequently Asked Questions

Grandma deals with "memory issues" - some short term, some long term... some sporadically - some painfully more frequent.  DH, CeCe and I trying unendingly to accommodate her with answers, but we occasionally meet our limits (hopefully not all of us at the same time... )  For the sake of time and space, I'll be as brief as possible:

Will there be music today? (variations:  Is there any music on? How can I get music?  I had music but now it's gone, do you know what happened?) 

     There's music everyday - we have to get it for you.  Your TV auto-tunes to the Gaithers at 1:00 and 3:00.  There's no need to call me at 12:58 to ask about it.  We can also get music for you from our computers, but when their site is down... you'll just have to find something else to watch.

 Do I have anything going on today? (variations:  What day is this? Do I go to the doctor today? Do I have church today? Are you going to work again?) 

     Mom - I go to work everyday.  You don't have any appointments.  We have CeCe's volleyball game tonight (yes, another one, it's called a 'season' for a reason).  Ruby will be coming. You go to church on Sunday.

When will ______________ (fill in the blank with family members' name) be coming again? 

     And depending on "the blank" we respond:  They were just here... I don't know... Thanksgiving.

Do you think I should see the doctor about this? 

     No.  You have seen the doctor about it.  The doctor isn't open today. 

Where's DH? 

    He's bowling.... he bowls on Wednesday nights... he's still bowling.... BOWLING!

Don't you think we need to get the dogs' hair cut?  (variations: Who should I call to make an appointment?  Do I need to find someone to take Sammy for a haircut?  Does Ginger need one too?  Do you think they can give them a bath?) 

     We'll take the dogs... I need to make an appointment.  They'll go at the same time...  Baths come with the haircut.

Who do you think is giving the dogs (people) food?  I know I'm not doing it.  (defensive tactic when we call attention to the dogs gaining weight). 

     The dogs tend to gravitate to the people who will give them people food.  Do you notice the dogs sitting by you whenever you eat?  Do you notice the dogs pay no attention to the rest of us?  It doesn't matter how "little" you give them... they know you will feed them (at least when we aren't around.)

Do you think I should let Sammy out before I go up to bed? (variations:  Do you want to let him out and send him up?  Is it too early for Sam to go out?  If I let Sam out now, do you think he'll get me up in the middle of the night?)  

     First of all, you go down to bed... We let Sam out at 8:00 and send him down.  He was just out a few minutes ago.  Leave him in the kitchen if you're worried about him waking you up (like that would ever happen).

Who owns these premises?  (variations:  Would 'they' allow me to have another twin bed in my room, for Sam?  He was used to having his own bed.  How much do they charge me for my apartment?  Do you think there will be anyone else moving in?) 

     We own the house.... Sam doesn't need a twin bed... another bed would make your room way too crowded.  We don't charge you anything to live here.  NO one else is moving in!

Can you explain this to me?  (Usually referring to something she got in the mail). 

     Yes.  No.  DH already paid that... We explained it before... that doesn't apply to you.... throw it away!

This is just a sampling.  There are many more - I'm not sure if she really wants answers, or just to engage us in conversation, but we oblige.... and oblige... and oblige.

So ends Episode 43

Episode 42 - Between Day Care and the Nursing Home

I love being Nana. DH (Papa) and I greatly enjoy our two grandchildren, three year old Lil A and two year old Belle. We don’t get to see as much of Lil A as we’d like, because he and his parents live in Kentucky… but Belle visits us regularly. She makes herself at home and knows exactly where the toys are. She delights in getting everything out and we delight in letting her. As parenting taught us both – they are little for such a short time… we intend to enjoy them as much as possible. We call their time with us, "NaPa Camp".  Grandma adores both the great-grands. She has a bit of a communication gap with Belle but they generally get their points across to the other.

Last week, Lil A and his Daddy spent some time in Iowa and we enjoyed having them with us for four days. Daddy had work to do while here, which took him away from the house a few hours a day, so Nana and Papa had some great quality time with our grandson. Lil A brought along with him, a plethora of toy figures (he refers to as his “guys”). These action figures are Transformers, Ninja Turtles, Super Heroes and Villains. He knows all their names. Lil A and his imagination played endlessly with his ‘guys’ on the living room rug. Occasionally he would become distracted or leave them unattended. Enter Grandma.

G: Should we pick these up?

DH: No – he’ll be back. Just leave them there.

G: I just don’t want them to get lost.

DH: They won’t.

G: Well someone might step on them and they'd break.

DH: I don’t think anyone will step on them. Just leave them till bedtime. They aren't hurting anything.

G: (Silence)

Lil A also brought some movies along, which we enjoyed watching with him. Surprisingly, none of his movies starred Lawrence Welk or Bill Gaither (not even in animated form). Grandma chose to stay with the family in the living room, though we offered to get her some music in her apartment. Lil A and I went to the library and checked out a few more movies, one being Casper the Friendly Ghost. (At least it had some real people in it).  We took it home and popped it in the player.  Grandma sat watching intently.

G: What is the purpose of this show?

DH: Purpose? Just entertainment.

G: Do you think it’s entertaining?

DH: Yeah… it’s OK.

G: I guess I just don’t get it.

One morning, as Lil A was flying his hand held airplane around the living room making “airplane sounds” he accidentally banked it (once or twice) into the back of Grandma’s chair.

G: Don’t hit my chair please.

Lil A: Sarwy.

A while later, that dang plane did it again.

G: Please don’t hit my chair.

Lil A: Oh Sarwy

Lil A continued to pilot his aircraft, when wouldn’t you know - a bit of tail wind caused one last bump. Grandma became like an irate passenger and raised her voice. Then I raised mine.

Me: Mom, maybe you’d be more comfortable in the basement. Why don’t you go down for a while before lunch?

There. I’d sent my Mother to Time Out.

We have a rocking chair sitting in front of a front window. Grandma must have thought it was too near the window. Since Lil A was standing by it, the following transpired:

G: Lil A, would you move that rocking chair please so it’s not so close to the window? (Lil A complies)

G: A little more that way… (again, he obliges)

G: Pull it forward a little… I think it’s going to hit the window. (She gets a look but he obeys)

I’m not sure Grandma completes the next command when Lil A stops abruptly and says:

Lil A: You aren’t my best friend because you keep making me move that chair! (The ultimate 3 year old insult… much like an 85 year old’s “I’m going to move out” threat.)

The next time Grandma asked Lil A to do something... he wasted no time in saying to her:

Lil A:  You're a Loser. 

Since we were fairly certain "Loser" was a word on the 'no fly list' with his Mommy and Daddy... Papa made him apologize immediately.  We of course then had to wonder if Grandma thought she had just been eliminated from a game she wasn't aware she was playing. 

Now I don’t mean to paint a picture of irritation. The two got along very well for the vast majority of the visit. In fact, at one point, Lil A became Grandma’s best friend. If you recall, Grandma had a great deal of problems with the satellite remote control (continually losing her programs) so DH found some ultra-simple 6 button controllers for her to use. Well, one of Lil A’s movies (that DH had recorded for him) had commercials. Lil A caught on quickly, how to zap through the commercials using the complicated remote. Grandma watched in awe.

The next morning, I left the two (Grandma and Lil A) alone for five minutes while I drove CeCe to school. Lil A was glued to a movie. When I returned Grandma announced she now knows how to zoom through those pesky commercials.

Me: You do?!

G: Yes, Lil A brought me the remote and I said, “I don’t know how to use this” and he said, “You just push the yellow button". He was right!

Now – if Grandma would press ONLY the yellow button , there’d be no problem. It’s the other 35 buttons that get her into trouble. And I have a feeling the exchange between the two (while I was gone) went more like this:

G: Lil A, how do you get the TV to go fast like that? Can you show Grandma?

And then I’m sure he took her the remote, gave her the two second tutorial and then went back to his movie. That Grandma ... she's a sly one.

The last full day of our Kentucky Boys’ visit – we arranged for Belle to come spend the day. The cousins had a great time and DH and I were in NaPa heaven. What fun we had… and Grandma did as well. She may have gone (voluntarily) to the basement for a while but she returned to a myriad of toys, cartoons and happy kiddos.

The next morning, Lil A and his Daddy left to go visit other family members in Iowa. Grandma was sad to see them go. Later that day she asked when they’d be back.

Me: Thanksgiving.

G: Not till then?

I often see parallels between Grandma and the Grandchildren. They can be overtly honest... painstakingly stubborn.... and very entertaining.

“Do you think it’s entertaining?”

Absolutely!

So ends Episode 42

Episode 41 - Keeping in balance

I ran into a friend today who regularly reads my blog.  "You haven't written anything lately.  I check, but there's nothing."

"I know" I said, "Episodes write themselves in my head, but I can't put them on paper... " (not that I have EVER put one on paper...)  It's true. I haven't blogged in two weeks and not for lack of material,  Things are pretty much the same as they have been the past seven months... at least Grandma is the same.  I may be a little more stressed but that's what comes from recovering from surgery, living with an octogenarian, a teenager and being on a diet.  Yeah... a diet.

After a family wedding last summer (which DH and I had both dropped weight for) I gained 10 pounds back; after Grandma moved in, I gained 10 more.  Part of the weight gain could be due to our making better meals (for Grandma's benefit) and the other part could be attributed to self induced culinary comfort.  Excuses aside - DH and I both decided it was time to lose some weight - so we started eating lo-carb.  DH had been quite successful on lo-carb in the past and though we've tried other diets, I agreed to do it "his way" this time.  More about the diet in another episode, I only mention it now to substantiate my stress factor. 

Grandma should always use a cane.  She has two, one she keeps in her basement apartment at the foot of the stairs, and the other she keeps by the doorway (to the basement) in the kitchen.  We encourage her to use one all the time... but that's no guarantee she will. 

Last week, the school nurse called to tell me CeCe was ill.  I went to the school to get her, to take home. As we drove into the driveway, we spotted Grandma (with her cane) walking closely with another woman.

CeCe: There's Grandma.

Me: Is that Ruby?

CeCe:  No... someone else.

I drop CeCe by the back door and drive up to Grandma, lowering my window.

Me:  Hey - Whatsup?  (Grandma turns to look at me)

G:  I'm helping her home.

I recognize the other woman as a friend of Grandma's who is visiting her family (our neighbors).  They are now embarking on the slightly sloping parkway toward the street.

Me:  Are you sharing that cane?

Her friend replies:  I need help but she can't cross the street.

G:  I know I'm not to cross the street... I'm just helping her down to it.

 I look up to our front porch.  Ruby is standing there.  She looks at me, shaking her head.  What do you do?  Grandma is going to test her boundaries to the limit.

The very next day, while outside, Grandma fell in the yard.  Ruby arrived minutes later to find her and called me at work.  I rushed home.  Grandma was sitting upright and refusing our assistance to get up. 

Me: So do you want me to call Coonrod? (a local "Wrecker/Crane" service... Ruby laughed)

G:  Who?

Me: Never mind.

G:  Bring me a pillow.

Me: Why?

G:  I want to use it to get myself up.

 I had already reasoned (or tried) with her so let Ruby retrieve a bed pillow from the house.  Grandma motioned to the ground beside her.

 G: Put it there.  (Ruby complies)

We then watched Grandma lay back and roll herself over onto the pillow and then over again to the previous sitting position.

Me: Mom, you're exactly where you were... except over here.  What are you trying to do?

G:  Put that pillow on the other side.  I need to use my good knee.  (Ruby moves the pillow)

Again, we watch Grandma roll herself over onto the pillow, this time planting her 'good' knee into the ground and hoisting herself up onto her hands and knees.  At that point, she allowed Ruby and me to help her to a standing position.  Her glad realization that nothing appeared broken was second only to her gloating over her effective method of getting herself up.

I took her to the clinic where she was checked out and x-rayed.  Ice was prescribed and her complaint of pain moved each day from her knee, to her ankle to her arm and currently resides in her shoulder.  Bruises and subsequent pain can occur days after an injury I tell her.  Oh - and what, do you ask was she doing out in the yard for anyway?  "To tuck the dog line in so no crippled person comes along and trips on it" (other than herself).

I often go into work early on Fridays and such was the case a few days ago.  I left the house before Grandma got up for the day so it was no surprise to get her call an hour or so into my work day.

Me:  Hello?

G:  There you are.  I came down this morning and the window was open… the fan was on… the deck door was open…

Me:  I came to work early.  CeCe walked to school.  You can shut them if it gets cold.

G:  It’s ALREADY cold.

Me: Then shut them.

Ring:

Me: Hello?

G:  I'm calling because there’s a light on under the dryer.

Me: Someone left the door open, that's why the lights on.

G:  What should we do?

Me: Close the door.'

G:  OK I’ll do that right now.

Ring:

Me:  Hello?

G: The garage door is open. Is it supposed to be open?

Me: No – CeCe probably went out that way.  You can close it.

G:  How do you close it?

Me: Push the button… and turn off the light if it’s on.

G:  Where is the light switch?

Me: There's one in the garage and one inside the laundry room

G:  Where’s the garage button… oh there it is… which one do I push – there’s two.

Me: One is for the light in the garage (great, another light) The bigger one closes the door

G:  I see one that says Lock.

Me: Never mind… leave the door open.

G:  Oh – there it goes (I hear the door closing)

Me:  OK – bye.

The following day, outside the house - in the presence of four adult witnesses and two toddlers, Grandma rose up out of her white plastic lawn chair. She lost her footing and teetered to her left.  The chair tipped over and Grandma began a 360 while we all watched on in horror.  With arms outstretched to her sides, like a child playing airplane... she staggered around in slow motion until finally coming to a complete stop, once again facing forward and as "upright" as she can be.  We broke into applause.

And yes - these four events happened in a five day period.  It's a good thing I work close to home (and also a good thing I don't work "from home").  I realize blogging is therapeutic and I should probably do more blogging and less consumption of comfort food.  We should also wrap Grandma in Nerf to protect her from herself!

So ends Episode 41

Episode 40 - Mail Call

I'm happy to report my foot is healing nicely.  The stitches are out and I'm in a regular shoe again.  I believe my recovery and rapid return to work was spurred on by Grandma... a bit of holistic healing so to speak (though not necessarily "non-invasive").

DH and I have found that a short period of solitude upon first arriving home from work helps the mindset for the evening.  Going straight from hours in the the work setting to hours in the Grandma setting without a break is difficult.  Even a thirty minute span of mental offload is a good investment in a more family-friendly dinner hour and evening.

Last night as DH and I were in the post work/pre-Grandma setting, the phone rang.  DH picked up the extension and checked the caller ID noting a toll free number.  He disconnected.  Noticing the handset still displayed TALK, he re-engaged.

G:  Hello. Hello.

"I'm sorry, your call did not go through. Would you please try your call again?"

G:  I wasn't making a call

"I'm sorry, your call did not go through. Would you please try your call again?"

G: Thank you.... Goodbye.

DH and I stifle laughter.  Nothing like a little tele-humor to aid in the unwinding process.

In the past week or so - DH has also signed us up for "Message Manager" through our local phone carrier.  This call tracker notifies both of us via email, every time a call goes out or comes in to our home phone.  It can also be a source of entertainment as we see a number pop up in our email that looks vaguely familiar, followed by another similar number - and then one of our phones rings.  Most of her calls are to or from Ruby.  When a number appears we can't identify, we do a reverse look-up.  Another helpful tool in monitoring Grandma while we are away.

One of Grandma's favorite 'chores' is to get the mail.  When the dogs signal the postman has been here, Grandma fetches the contents of the mailbox and neatly piles it in individual stacks on the kitchen counter... DH, NM, CeCe ... her mail however, she keeps by her chair to "go over."  Most often, if she questions something - she'll ask one of us what it is about.

G:  I want you to look at this. 

DH:  What is it?

G:  It's my mail.  It says it can lower my interest rates on my credit card.

DH: You don't have a credit card.

G: Then why would they send this to me?

DH:  They want you to sign up for one.

G:  Do you think we should?

DH: No

G:  Should I send it back and write "No" on it?

DH: No (ripping it in half and throwing it in the recycle bin)

G;  I don't think you should have done that.

Over the weekend Grandma took some of her mail "upstairs" to her basement apartment.  On a hunch, DH did a quick search and found her dentist bill.

DH:  You can't take mail to the basement until we've seen it.

G:  I thought you'd seen it.

DH:  No, you need to leave ALL the mail on the counter until we've looked through it.  This bill won't get paid if we don't get it.  We pay your bills.

G:  What about this?  (revealing another envelope)

DH: That's just an EOB from your insurance.  It explains the benefits they've paid for you.  You get one every month.  Just file it.

Sounds so simple doesn't it?  "Just file it."  Grandma has multiple plastic file holders filled with years of monthly reports.  But this time, she's not having it.  The next morning, before I leave for work, the subject is revisited.

G:  Who can we get to look at this?

NM: At what?

G:  This... (displaying the EOB)

NM: DH told you to file that.

G:  I can't file it ... we need to have a lawyer look at it.

NM: No we don't... you get one every month. DH told you to file it ... or you can throw it away.

G:  I am NOT going to throw it away.

NM: Then file it.  But we are NOT calling a lawyer to look at your EOB.

A couple hours later at work, the Message Manager informs me my office phone is about to ring.

NM: Hello.

G:  Hi... it's me. So do you know anyone who can explain this paper to me?

NM: I did explain it Mom.  They paid money toward your doctors and medicines. They have to report that back to you ... that's all.

G: I just don't understand it.

NM: And you don't have to... we take care of that stuff for you. You can ask DH about it again if you want, but he'll just tell you to file it.

G:  ... or he'll rip it up.

It's amazing how much time and energy can be wasted on snail mail.  In this cyber age of electronic delivery, e-statements and the like, it seems such a waste.  DH thinks we should get her a PO Box to eliminate the problem.... or a locked mailbox for the side of our house.  Maybe we should check with a lawyer to get his opinion....

So ends Episode 40

Episode 39 - Nothing like a little bed rest

I try to blog on Sundays.  It is a bit of therapy before the beginning of another week.  I missed last Sunday.  The pressure of life was too much to be tranquilized by a dose of blog and in layman's terms: I was so tense, you could open a pop bottle with my butt cheeks.  Stress comes and stress goes.  This round has passed, leaving me with only a zit on my chin - I believe my first in more than 20 years.

I had surgery this week on my foot.  I write this as I recuperate ... reclined in my bed on the second floor of our home.  Grandma doesn't venture to the "upper" region except for shower time.  She refers to her basement apartment as "upstairs" ... to which we've become accustomed. 

When DH brought me home from my outpatient surgery on my right foot, he lovingly delivered me to my recliner - got me an ice pack, snack, beverage and eventually supper.  The pain was bearable as the doctor had given me some long term numbing shots.  Grandma was sympathetic and allowed me to use one of her canes to assist in my trips to the bathroom.  During my first six hours of home recovery, any attempt to sleep was thwarted by Grandma's repeated call of my name.  I decided Day 2 might be better spent in the solitude of my bedroom.

Day 2 - DH brought me coffee (my first cup in 2 days) and then breakfast before he left for work. I was happily positioned in my bed with my foot propped, ankle iced...laptop, cell phone, land line extension and remote control all within reach.  It was wonderful.... peaceful... everything a recovering patient could ask for.

A little before 11:00 - a friend called to see how I was doing.  We chatted a few minutes before a familiar voice joined the conversation.

G:  Who is this?

Me:  Mom, I'm on the phone.

G:  Who is this?

Me:  Mom... it's me.

G:  Where are you?

Me: I'm upstairs in my bedroom. I'm on the phone talking to Sharon... hang up please.

G:  I didn't know you were here.

Me: I had surgery ... remember?  I can't walk very well. I'm talking to Sharon, hang up.

G:  You're on my phone.

Me: It's the house phone - there's only one. Just hang up.  (I can hear Sharon giggling in the background).

I halt Grandma's next comment by continuing my conversation with Sharon.  I sincerely doubt she hung up - but probably enjoyed eavesdropping on the remainder of my conversation.  Note to self: Use cell phone.

Cece had made some brownies to take on a beach trip with her volleyball teammates and I made a trip to the kitchen to help her cut them as well as get my lunch.  I got fresh ice and Cece helped me back to my bed with my lunch and beverage glass.... and then she and her brownies were off to the beach.

G:  Are you up there?

Me:  Yes.

G:  Where are you?

Me: In my bed.  (Grandma appears in the doorway)

G:  There's a mess in the kitchen.

Me: I know... I could only do so much standing on one foot.

G:  I think she made a cake.

Me:  She made brownies ... but I made the mess. I'm sorry.

G: You didn't leave egg shells out did you?

Me:  Yes I did.  I had a hard boiled egg on my salad and I left the shells on the island.  Don't worry about it.  We can get it later.

G:  Well I can clean it up... I just thought you should know it was a mess.

A short while later... I hear Grandma coming up the stairs...

G:  You still there?

Me:  Yes

G:  What about this? Do you think it can go down the garbage disposal?  (She is holding the core of a head of lettuce which I had thrown in the sink but failed to push down the drain).

Me: Yes... it's fine.

G:  I just thought I should check.  I can cut it up if you think I should.

Me: No, it will be fine.

Minutes later...

G:  Me again....

Me:  Yeah?

G:  Should I wash this?  (Now she is holding a fairly heavy, handled wok which we keep in the oven when not in use and Cece had removed to make her brownies.)

Me: No.  It's not dirty.

G: It looks dirty.

Me: No, it's just worn.  You don't need to wash it.

G: Well I can.

Me: But you don't need to.  Just put it back in the oven.

Again...

G:  Hello?

Me:  What do you want?

G:  Am I going to have music this afternoon?  Ruby is coming up and we wanted to listen to music.  Can you get music or not?

Me:  I can get music.  (I grab the second remote from the nightstand, grateful that DH has our house wired for convenience and tune The Gaithers in on the living room TV)  There you go.  Better go down cuz it's starting.

G:  She's not here yet.  She's walking.  Sometimes she drives, but today she's walking.

Ruby arrives and for the next two hours I enjoy 120 minutes of quiet solitude, interrupted only by the need to re-tune a Gospel program to the living room TV.

G:  Are you awake?

Me: Yes (would it make a difference?)

G:  She's gone now.  It's hot outside.

Excuse the lack of dialogue here - but Grandma proceeds to tell me about the dogs.  In the greatest of detail, their every move... I try to block it out.  My foot is beginning to hurt.  I've not been taking pain medicine because it hadn't been hurting.  I'm ready to turn in my medal for heroism.

Me:  If you go downstairs I'll get you more music...

G:  Oh I love that music..... Do you want me to get you anything?

Me:  No, I'm fine.  DH will be home soon - he's bringing Belle.

G:  Oh good.  (she returns to the living room... I put on more music)

DH and Belle arrived home shortly after Cece returned from the beach.  They asked how my day had gone. 

Me:  I think I need the drugs.

Although my recovery is estimated at 10 days... I'm hoping to be back to work on Monday.  The fact that my building has no passenger elevator and my office is located on the third floor will not deter me.  The only restroom is located on the ground level - but I can refrain from liquids if necessary.  There's a power lift machine being used on a project at the building next to mine... perhaps they can give me a ride up to a third floor window. 

Day 3 - Coffee/check.  Breakfast/check.  Pain medicine/check.  Locked my bedroom door/check.

So ends Episode 39

Episode 38 - There's a missing piece of the puzzle.

We've had a busy weekend.  CeCe wanted her room painted and I wanted DH to put a support bracket under the clothes rod, in my laundry room closet.  Yesterday was a madhouse as I emptied the closet of a 150 pounds of coats (thus the need for the support bracket).  I of course, got carried away and pretty much emptied the entire room out into the garage, kitchen and dining area. CeCe purchased the paint she had picked out at Ace Hardware and recruited friends to help her paint.  DH installed my bracket and then enlisted my help in trimming the room with CeCe's lovely shade of Pepto Bismol paint before the kids used the rollers.  We also had our 2 year old granddaughter, Baby Belle spending the day and night.  Much of our work was accomplished while Belle was napping. Unfortunately, I was too tired (or thought I was) to put everything away... thus our cars stayed outside of the garage last night. Since CeCe's room had a strong smell of paint, she slept in the living room (and all of her "stuff" remained scattered throughout the upstairs).

Morning came and the craze continued.  DH prepared pancakes and watched Belle while I gave Grandma a shower and got her ready for church.  She has been able to go back to her church the past two or three months, thanks to their transportation ministry.  Each week one of three couples picks her up about 9:15 and returns her safely shortly after 11:00.  Her spirits soar after attending the worship services there, seeing so many people she's known for years and even meeting new people.  She finds her place (fourth row down on the right side) and enjoys every minute.  She loves the pastor.  She loves the music, She loves the people.

Grandma ate her pancakes while I finished getting ready for church.  Belle was objecting to her pancakes and CeCe was trying to find her things (not easy when your room is torn apart).   I got Grandma's offering envelope prepared and put in her purse... we loaded Belle and her bags into the car,  and drove out of the driveway.  It was 8:30.  First service was beginning and we were 11 minutes away.  For all we had going on, it wasn't too bad.

During our service I heard my phone vibrate and looked down to see it was "Home" calling.  I immediately realized I had not told Grandma "who" would be picking her up today.  When I call for her ride each Saturday, they usually tell me who will be driving, but they weren't sure this week.  Grandma hadn't asked... but I was guessing she was asking now.  I ignored the call, not wanting to leave the service (and knowing her ride would be there in 15 minutes.).

When our service was over, DH and I made a few stops and dropped  Belle off to her parents. By the time we got back to the church to pick CeCe up after Sunday School, I knew Grandma should be home.  I wasn't looking forward to  what else waited for me there.  Two rooms in total disarray and a garage we couldn't get our cars into.

As predicted, Grandma was home when we got there.  We asked her how church was and she said:

G:  Oh, it was wonderful.  It always is.

DH:  That's good.

Me:  Who drove you today? 

G:  Mr. and Mrs. G. brought me home.  I don't know who took me.  They took me to the wrong church first.

DH:  What?

G:  They took me to the church here in town... but I got a ride over to my church (2 miles away).

Me:  Mom... None of those people would take you to the wrong church.

G:  Well I wouldn't have thought so either but they did.

DH:  (to NM) You'd better call and check this out.

Me:  (to DH)  I am not calling them and asking if they took her to the wrong church....

(to Grandma)  Mom... I think you've gotten things mixed up.

G:  Silence.

I proceed to get my laundry room put back together and the kitchen and dining area back to normal.  As I made another trip to the garage - our neighbor, Moe pulls through our shared driveway and stops his car.  I walked out to chat with him.

Moe:  We took your mother to church today.

Me:  You what?

Moe:  We took your mother to church.  We were getting ready to go ourselves and she was outside here walking around.  She asked if I knew the phone number to the Methodist Church.  Someone was supposed to pick her up but she didn't know who.  I told her to get in, we'd be happy to take her.

Me:  Oh my gosh....

Moe:  Was that OK?  I walked her in through two sets of doors. Then we went on to church ourselves.

Me:  Oh my gosh... she really did go to the church here in town. 

I thanked Moe and told him I'd talk to him later.  I went back inside the house.

Me:  Mom, I just talked to Moe.  He said he and Sarah took you to church today.

G:  So that's who it was!

Me:  And then someone from the church here in town took you to Lisbon?

G:  Yes, but I don't know who it was.  When I got in there, I told them, "I'm in the wrong place."  Some lady talked to me and told her husband to get his car.  I told them I didn't want to put them to the trouble but they said it was fine. 

Me:  Gee... so you really did go to the other church.

G:  I told you I did.

Me:  I know, but I didn't believe you. 

About that time, the phone rang and it was Mrs. F. (the woman in charge of the transport ministry from Mom's church).  I went outside to take the call.  Poor Mrs. F. was at a loss as to how Grandma had  gotten to the other church.  She said Mr. and Mrs. G. had gotten to the house, but Mother was nowhere to be found (she is usually outside waiting).  Mrs. G. went up and rang the bell several times and then even went inside.  At this point, all I can think of, is the condition of my house.  I mean, I'd never get any blue ribbons for housekeeping, but today's version had to look like I was ready for a hoarder intervention.

G:  Uh, I'm sorry... you were saying.

Mrs.F:  Just that Mrs. G came into church as white as could be.  She was very upset that they couldn't find your Mother.

I told Mrs. F.  I was sorry that Mom had caused Mrs. G.'s uneasiness ... I was quite sure she had flown the coop before 9:15.  We've always told her to "be ready" at 9:15, that the ride would be there between then and 9:25, but 'Grandma time' is not necessarily Greenwich Mean Time.  Mrs. F. was happy to know why Grandma was AWOL and I was happy to know they'd continue to take her in the future. 

The piece from the puzzle still missing is "who took Grandma from the one church to the other."  Maybe we'll find out... maybe we'll never know.  Grandma may forget her visit to the other church in another day or two.  I can only hope Mrs. G. can forget what the inside of our house looked like today!

So ends Episode 38

Episode 37 - His 'n Her Getaways

It has been two months since DH and I have had a respite from caretaking.  I realize that many caretakers get little respite at all... so we are grateful for any time we can enjoy away from the duties of elder care. Since our jobs and CeCe's activities also influence our schedule, it becomes even more difficult to find time and coverage to allow us a getaway.  For all of those reasons - DH and I took separate respites the past couple weekends.  DH joined his brothers and sons last weekend in St.Louis, hometown of their favorite baseball team.  They look forward all year to their annual pilgrimage.  From Iowa, Texas, Arizona and Kentucky they come... to bond and cheer on their beloved Cardinals.  DH was gone a little more than 48 hours.

G:  What time will DH be home?

Me:  He went to St. Louis today, remember?.  He'll be home on Sunday.

Sounds so simple doesn't it?  But as with most ongoing discussions with Grandma... the response doesn't sink in.

G:  Did you say he'd be home later tonight?

Me:  No, Sunday.

G:  Where did he go again?

Me:  St.Louis (pointing to the TV) He's at the game we're watching.  There's another one tomorrow.

G:  He'll be home then tomorrow night?

Me:  Sunday

G:  Did you say he'd be home on Saturday?

Me:  Nope... I said Sunday.

These conversations were spread over a couple hours.  With DH out of town, I don't even have a target for my "oh brother..." face.  There are many benefits to being team caregivers, not the least of which, is being able to make funky, eye-rolling facial expressions at the other, when the  ridiculous occurs. 

DH & Co. had a wonderful time.  The Redbirds won both of the games they attended.  On the homefront, I managed to handle both Grandma and a little teenage drama.  I was very happy to see DH return. 

This weekend, I had a 24 hour respite with a group of ladies I seldom get to see.  We met at a hotel/waterpark conveniently located between all of us.  I enjoyed each glorious hour chatting, laughing, sitting in the hot tub and catching up with my friends.  I exchanged a few texts and instant messages with DH... enough to know things were going well at home without me.  I wasn't surprised or offended.  The advantage to separate respites is it requires little planning.  Since one of us is home, we don't need to prepare meals ahead, leave notes or make extra provisions for the unexpected.

Today we are all back under one roof.  We've had our midsummer respites and as always, look forward to our next one. 

This would normally be where "So ends Episode 37..." appears;  however, someone suggested I share this story on my blog, although it isn't about Grandma. 

For the past twenty years, I have been friends with a now 94 year old woman (Libby).  We were neighbors for several years.  One day a few years back, Libby told me about a friend of hers who had lived alone and passed away.  No one found her for several days and it was summertime.  This obviously disturbed Libby... being elderly and living alone herself.  So to ease her mind, I said, "Heck, if that's really bothering you, I'll just call you everyday and see that you are alive.  How would that be?"  Just dandy.  So everyday for more years than I can count for sure... I call Libby.  We chat anywhere from 30 seconds to 5 minutes.  I usually visit her about once a week.

One day last week, the phone rang in my office.  It was the  dispatcher from the 'Help I've fallen and I can't get up' button that both Libby and Grandma wear.  They were calling to ask me to go check on Libby as they could not get a response from her.  I said I would go immediately.  I left work and walked to my car.  I was  wondering if she might be outside, in her garage or if she had possibly fallen somewhere inside.

As I turned onto Main Street, to drive the mile to Libby's house, the thought of something more serious occurred to me.  I prayed I would fine everything in order and the trip would have been essentially unnecessary.  I was careful to maintain my speed within the limit. The business district is only three blocks long, and as I approached the one and only traffic light we have in town, I saw the large delivery truck in front of me prepare to turn right.  As he began his turn... the traffic light turned yellow.  Now it happens (and everyone in town knows it) that "our light" stays red for a couple seconds before the opposite light turns green.  I was right on the bumper of the wide turning truck and made the decision to cross the intersection, just as the light was turning 'pink'.  I knew I had 1-2 seconds of grace (from cross traffic) and the thought of a police officer being anywhere around did not even occur to me.

The cross light had turned green when I glanced in my rear view mirror.  There, I saw one of our City's Finest making a left hand turn to follow me.  "Gee," I wondered, "Was he there when I went through the light?  Do you suppose he was planning to come this way or did I have something to do with his choice of direction?"

I applied my brake as I went down a large hill.  If he hadn't seen me run the light, there was no sense getting on his bad side by speeding now.  I put on my turning indicator as I approached the road to Libby's house.  His rooftop lights went on.  Blinky - Flashy - Blinky.  Yup.  He'd seen me.  I now also realized I had left work without my purse and therefore had no drivers license with me.  I thought, "There's no sense pulling over here when I don't even have my license...."  I continued on.  He turned on the wailing siren.  I pressed the button to put my window down and stuck my arm out the window, pointing up ahead and to the left.  He continued to follow me, lights and siren both engaged.

I turned into Libby's driveway and allowed room for the police car to park behind me.  We both got out of our cars.

Me:  Hi Mark (Police Chief) I'm really sorry about the light back there... I got a call from the medical alert people and I need to check on Libby.  You can give me a ticket - but I really need to check on her first. 

He said he'd go in with me (maybe just to see if my story was on the level or not... in which case, "That will be $120 please".)  I moved my car and for the first time felt very uneasy.  Wouldn't it be just like God to use my traffic error to be sure I didn't walk into a difficult situation all by myself?  I found a dead body once ... I don't care to repeat it. 

I remoted into her garage and was ready to use my key to unlock her back door when I turned the knob and it opened.... a couple inches.  The chain lock was on the door.  I shouted in the door, "Libby!  Libby!"  No response.  I yelled again.  I heard her voice.  I couldn't understand her at first, but it was getting louder.

"This stupid button..."  Libby slides the chain back and opens the door.  "I don't know what is wrong with this dumb thing..." holding the medical alert button in her hands.  She was standing there perfectly intact.

"You're OK?!  Thank goodness!"  Libby looks past me at the police officer.  "Don't worry," I said.  "He's just going to give me a ticket because I ran a red light getting here....  we just wanted to be sure you were OK first."

It all ended well.  Libby was OK ... Mark had mercy on me (didn't give me a ticket) .... and for a few minutes, "Life with Libby" was an even bigger adventure, than "Life with Nana Mama's Mama."

So ends Episode 37