Room service

aaaahhhhhhh.....  the sweet sound of peace and quiet.  It's my favourite sound, in the whole, wide world. 
Ok, except for the sound of the laundry going upstairs.  I forgot to close the door and I'm too lazy to haul my fat ass upstairs to do it. 
aaaaahhhhh... the sweet sound of peace and quiet..... with the distant hum of the washing machine.   Positive thinking.. remember?  It's my mantra.

Alot happened yesterday.   I'm not even sure I can blog about everything, but I will try.   First of all, I finally opened up and sent my blog address to a few chosen and trusted people.  Trisha, Alyssa, Meg, and a couple of friends who are very close to me, enough so that they will understand what I am writing about.   I got mixed reviews, which was expected.  But still, humans only want to hear the good stuff.... we are funny that way.  Our wiring is such that even if it's not a direct insult, even if it's constructive criticism, it still stings.  But that's why I finally decided to pull away the "anonymous" blogging and let people out there know I am writing.  I appreciate comments.... bring them on.  And besides.... it was getting almost embarrassing blogging everyday to "you have 0 followers".   hah!  So please, become a follower, let me know if I'm being a drag, or if I'm being boring.   If you tell me the latter...just don't expect a Christmas card!

I'll start with Marjorie...after all, this is supposed to be all about her.  WHEW... what can I say?  Yesterday, I was thinking "MY GAAWD... I am giving you a good life woman!!!"  Seriously..... she is spoiled rotten here.  But again, no more or less than my kids.  OK... actually she is more spoiled than them, because honestly, she is the most appreciative member of my family.  She appreciates me, and all the stuff I do.  Marjorie tells me everyday how grateful she is that she has me, and everything I do for her.  For that reason, I tend to spoil her more.   A little appreciation goes a long way.  My two life-and-cash-sucking children should take a read of this, and take note.  My entitled husband should take a read and take note..... OH but that won't happen this weekend, as he is heading off AGAIN... to go skiing for the weekend.  Nice life.  But on the flip side, I'm making him live with his dementia-ridden mother in law who feels him up at every chance she gets.   Yeah.  Ok.  I take that back Pierre.  You deserve a little entitlement.

So the bedtime routine begins last nite.  I don't feel like I have to re-hash the longevity and repetitiveness that this routine entails, each and every nite, so I'll skip right to the point.   At around 11:45pm, I finally gave up trying to get to sleep.  Mum had her TV blaring so loud, that I could actually FEEL the vibration through the floor.   This is a game.   Mum turns it up, knowing that I'll come downstairs and into her room to turn it down.   Last nite, I was trying DESPERATELY not to do that, to break the cycle I know that she is aiming for... company.  Any way she can get it, she wants company.  Even if it's me flying into her room, hair looking like a bad 80's back-comb, in my undies with my new VERY LARGE body out there... in all it's glory..... to turn down "that damn TV"... she wants it.  Company.  So I settled on the man couch in the living room to watch some PVR shows and avoid the unbearable noise of her TV right below me.....   About 15 minutes go by, and out she comes, Marjorie.  Looking confused and a little bit ruffled, she peeks around the corner and says "Oh hello there.  I wasn't sure anyone was here right now."  I asked her if everything was ok, and she replied "yes, but I was wondering if I could order a wee meal to my room?  I missed dinner and I'm terribly peckish.   I was supposed to have dinner with my husband but he never came home"   Now, its hard to paint a picture of this with words.... the hardest part of writing is to give the reader a clear view of how a scenario went down, but imagine Mum, in her pj's, slightly confused, but not enough to overwhelm the fact that she was hungry.  :)   She systematically figured out that if she asked politely for a room service meal, she might actually get it.  As she is explaining why she wants the meal... she is stuttering, stopping long enough to grab a sentence from her garbed brain, and that is what she came up with.   And then the kicker.... I asked her what she felt like eating and she replied by asking me for a menu.... did we have one she could look at and she would get back to me.   A MENU.....  all this stemming from the one thought that is constant these days.....In her mind, she was in a hotel, or a boarding house.  She was waiting for Dad, but he was not showing.   She was hungry, and decided to take things into her own hands.   I was proud and respectful of that, and a little amused at the part where she asked me for a menu.  What I didn't mention, was that I offered her scrambled eggs on toast, she thought for a minute and that's when she asked for the menu.  Obviously scrambled eggs was not what she was feeling like.

I sat Mum down on the couch, and I told her to sit tight as I made her a cup of tea.  I then made her a grilled cheese sandwich (one of her favourites), and I brought it to her room, with her.  Settled her in and we chatted as she finished the sandwich very quickly.   As for my tip?  She asked if I would be able to wait until tomorrow.  I said "that's fine Mum".....  and I settled her down, for the last time.    Goodnight Mum.

This morning, I brought her the usual toast, marmalade, juice (to take her meds) and coffee IN HER BED.   First thing she did was make note that Dad was still not home.  Did I have ANY idea where he was?  So once again, I got the cordless phone, and pretended to talk to my Dad (at the hospital)... where he was ONCE again, stuck in a surgery and wouldn't be too much longer.   She settled with that, she never asks to speak to him, and I think that deep down she knows that she can't.  I left the room, looked at the phone and said. "Dad... you still there?   Think maybe you MIGHT have wanted to give me a little heads up?  Right about the time you put the death grip on my hand in the hospital, and made me promise that I would take care of Mum... right about there, do you think that maybe... JUST MAYBE you could've mention that Mum had AD related dementia?  And that you'd known about it for years?  and that maybe it was something that I should look into right away?"    Dad didn't answer.   Maybe he was too focused on his own worries.   OR maybe he was regretting all the stuff he wrote about me in his will ... (yes Dad... I read the will and all the clauses you set forth for me before I would ever.. EVER get my hands on a penny.)   Well thanks Dad.   I'm doing a great job regardless of the fact that you left me (us) with little to no information to go on.  I have no doubt I'll be calling you at some time tomorrow.

Yes, I am grappling with some anger at the lack of communication he left me with.....  nothing.  He gave us nothing.   However, on a more positive note, I like to think that he was proud of us, confident in how we had all turned out, comforted by the fact that he knew we would all make the right decisions when it came to Mum.    And that is how I choose to deal with the anger and frustration I sometimes feel for him.    
Where are my tears....old man?   You'd better be shedding some in heaven.... tears of joy, at how well your three kids have stepped up to the plate.  
You'd better be ......

peace out.