Time with Friends
Thanksgiving was less than a week ago, but I’m still trying to recover from it. No, not physically, but mentally. I started out traveling to Arkansas where I spent the night with my best friend and her family. We played a hysterical round of Cheater’s Monopoly, after a fabulous Instant Pot beef stew dinner that night. I learned NOT to announce my intended cheats, I just had to get away with it. It just didn’t work out too well for me. It also didn’t work out when my bestie stole money from the bank and me, every time she had the opportunity. I was just way too honest for this game and she was way too devious!
Rheumatoid Arthritis became an unwelcome guest in her body a few years ago. She used to be one of the most active and on the go people I’d ever encountered. Seeing her physically pained by the disease and sitting in a wheelchair to cook and maneuver about her house hurt my heart. It hurt my heart for her husband and their son, but especially for her. This is not what I was expecting our 40s to be like.
I stayed with them on my way back home to Missouri. We played Uno Flip this time. I highly recommend this game. I won this game, fair and square. No Cheating Required! I miss my friends and wish I lived closer to them but I am thankful to still have my friend and her family in my life after so many years .
Time with Family
I left her house and headed toward my parents in Louisiana. A hard week lay ahead of me. I suspected my mom had Alzheimer’s several years ago, well before the doctors did. Sadly, my suspicions were correct. She no longer has any interest in any household tasks, cooking, TV, or much of anything else. My dad cooks some, but generally just takes her to town for meals most days. Cooking Thanksgiving dinner fell squarely upon my shoulders this year.
My Daddy had already told me that she needed some clothes that fit her better than hers did. I bought her clothes here in Missouri and she was all excited to try on her new clothes when I got there. However, she was like a stubborn teenager when it came to trying on the clothes that were already in her closet. She got mad, she threw tantrums, she threw things, she threw fits. My mom read size tags and insisted that she did NOT wear those sizes. Eventually, she raided the clothes in my closet and made off with one of my new shirts. I hope she wears it with good health! But in the end, I was able to clean out one of her closets and she now has a closet filled with clothes that may actually fit her changing body.
A tower of storage boxes packed with clothing now awaits her further decline. They await the time when her weight begins to melt away when she forgets to eat, how to eat, when her mind quits working even further. These packed away clothes await a different type of a Thanksgiving. I hope this Thanksgiving is many years in the future, but I’m afraid it won’t be.
Thanksgiving Day arrived, my mama had no clue it was Thanksgiving. It was just another day for her. I tried to get her interested in the Macy’s Day Parade. She’s loved it since before I was born, but there was no interest in it this year.
My dad cooked a ham the day before. I gave them an Instant Pot for Christmas. We started using it early while I was there to teach my dad how to use it. I used it to make broth to cook the turkey breast, the turkey breast itself, and then the gravy. My dad loved “their” present. I used their Air Fryer, last year’s Christmas present, to cook cornbread for the cornbread dressing that I baked in their crockpot. Then Daddy got Mama to help him make a fruit salad. It was a very small, but oh so meaningful Thanksgiving dinner.
After we finished eating, my Daddy and I both took the traditional Thanksgiving nap. While napping, Mama raided the fruit salad again. We boxed up the leftovers and put them into the freezer for them to have ready to eat meals on the coming cold, winter days. Since my mom has no memory, she thinks all of the food I leave frozen for them is “old” food and is afraid to eat it. She’s afraid she’ll get food poisoning. However, the stuff labeled 2013 doesn’t offend her at all. Again, no memory.
I packed up the Thanksgiving leftovers in reusable containers. Then I found tape, and marked each box of leftovers, “Not old food, love Dolores.” Hopefully, when she reads it next, she will see it and the heart that I drew for her and eat it with the love it was packed with.
Time for a Move
My parting gift to my parents for Thanksgiving, was to place an offer on a house six miles from them. Maybe my Thanksgiving will turn into a Christmas gift for us all.
Speak Your Mind