Angie called me yesterday, right before lunch, and said she was planning to visit mom. Would I like to go too?
I thought it was a great idea since I needed to take Isaiah to his piano lesson anyway, we would go there first.
I have been taking Isaiah for piano lessons for the past six months now because he plays by ear and I thought it would be good for him to learn to read music.
I think he is learning. At least I hope he is. He says his teacher likes his music. More often than not though I see him listening to a song and then playing it without music in front of him.
His teacher likes for him to play a new song for her every week. He said she corrected him on his song yesterday where he was playing it wrong at one place. I guess his ears messed up.
So be that as it may be. I just trust his teacher. If she allows him to play that way I figure she knows what she is doing. She is 85 years old. She seems to be in good health. Maybe teaching and playing piano keeps her mind in good working order.
Mom is 85. I wish she was playing and teaching piano.
When we got there yesterday she was still in the dining room. She had just finished with lunch so we took her back to her room. She was in a happy frame of mind. She was so delighted to see Isaiah. She would just beam with joy and smile whenever she looked at him.
I'm not sure if he is Isaiah in her mind or not. He could be Lucas or Marc to her. He has grown a lot this past year and could look more like his older brothers to her than the little boy he was 4 years ago, when she would have known without a doubt who he was.
We were remembering yesterday that it was 4 years ago that Dad was at Mayo lying at death's door and the Doctors were telling us he would be going to a nursing home, if he ever left the hospital alive at all. They said we must prepare for a new normal. At the very best he would be on a feeding tube.
They were right about one thing. He isn't the same. He walks with a stoop and is a lot thinner and older. But they were wrong about his quality of life. He is very self sufficient. Basically we clean his house, do his laundry and provide meals in a hit or miss fashion.
When I went to clean his house on Sat. I freaked out a little. I saw his sidewalk was way too icy. When I left it was almost dark and he wasn't home from seeing mom yet. I thought about how horrible it would be if he fell in the dark and couldn't make it into the house and no one would know. So later I called Darwin and they got it salted and taken care of.
When I think of old people, I wonder, why does life center so much around "us"? Old people still matter. They have real lives and real memories. Why do they get " forgotten"? Why do we look at them as "over the hill" or like a lost worn out shoe left under the bed?
My mom is only a shell of her former self, but she can still smile!
My Dad? He is a rare wonder. I love to hear his thoughts and ideas. He has a good understanding of who God is and I could sit and listen to him and Steve talk for hours.
I think we could learn something from the old Native American culture when it comes to honoring our elders.
The truth is, we are only one or two steps away from being old ourselves.
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