She's a Grand Old Dame!

 Mom turns 99-years-old tomorrow so we had a little Open House for her today at the nursing home.  She was all dressed and ready to be wheeled down to the lounge when we got there and even had a tiara on.  We had a lot of fun with that.  At one point, some of the nurses that came in agreed with us that she should be declared the "Queen Mum" of the nursing home.  Mom gave us all an imperial wave and some of the ladies there even curtsied.

 My brother flew in from Michigan for the weekend so we've been over to the home several days already.  Yesterday we read some more of the farm girl story that I've been reading to her.  It was all about ironing before they had steam irons (you had to sprinkle your clothes with water and then roll them up to await ironing) and washing with the old wringer washers.  We ALL remembered those times and chuckled over the memories.

John tried to get a picture of the two of them with his cellphone and Mom gave us all a regal smile.  Unfortunately she couldn't see the pictures because of her eyesight but we will enjoy them as documentation of a memorable time.

Besides the nurses and staff that dropped in to say "hi" to Mom and have some food and cake, good friends Linda and Vince Joslin stopped in for a visit as well.  Their little dog Schatze is a favorite of Mom's and she always enjoys a visit from them.

Then granddaughter Laura and husband Jason arrived up from Maryland to add to the fun.  Mom was certainly glad to see them as well.  I think my brother was delighted to have the chance to visit with Jason because both of them are hunters and gun enthusiasts and enjoy talking "shop" when they get together.

While the men discussed archery bows and hunting blinds, Laura brightened her grandmother's day, helping her to open presents and even sing some songs.

You can't hear Mom singing very well in this little clip but listen to the end when she rallies for a "BIG" finale. She still loves to sing.

Finally, while Mom was dozing off, we enjoyed looking at the lovely fish in the freshwater tank.  They had some very unusual fish, including a freshwater mantis.  Vince knew the names of many of them so we had fun trying to spot them and identify them all.

Then it was time to take Mom back to her room for a nap and head back to our house.  We got quite a good laugh when we saw Jason and Laura's new truck parked next to the Commander's Ford Escape.  My, my....I always thought the Escape was a big car but next to the truck, it looked like a puny "little brother."

Happy birthday, Mom!  One more year and you'll make it on the Smuckers jelly jar on the Today Show.  Hip Hip Hooray for a grand old dame!

It Was NO Fire Drill!

Yesterday I went to visit Mom in the nursing home and we followed our usual routine.  I signed her out at the nursing station and wheeled her out of her wing and over to the home's library.  We settled down  to enjoy a chat.  I caught her up on the family news and then I pulled out my Kindle and said, "Well, are you ready to do some reading?  I think we left off at the part where Cow #24, who is going to have her calf any day, has failed to turn up at the barn for milking time."

No sooner did I get those words out of my mouth when the blaring sounds of the fire alarm started up and I heard the hall doors slam shut.  For some reason, whenever those alarms go off, every door at the end of every hallway in the place shuts.  I guess it follows the theory of having doors shut between compartments on a ship.  If the ship springs a leak, hopefully the leak will be contained within a small area.

I waited a minute to see if someone would come by saying it was only a test of the alarms but that didn't happen.  Instead staff were running past in the direction of Mom's wing.

"OK, Mom....I guess we'd better head out," I said and I proceeded to push her to the common area on the other side of those dreadfully heavy doors.

One of the staff saw me standing there with her as a steady stream of staff with people in wheelchairs came into the room.

"Should I take her on outside?" I asked.

"No, you two are fine right here.  The problem is back in her wing so this is a secure place to assemble," she answered.

"Well, Mom, let's head over to that little alcove with the sofa and chairs and we'll continue our story," I said as I pushed her into the area.  Oh, boy, there was a flat-screen TV on the wall blaring out old-time music and there was a sign next to it that said, "Do NOT turn off this TV."  On top of that noise, there was an elderly gentleman who had just left the dining room and settled in one of the chairs in the area and HE had an accordian.  He was gaily playing tunes on it, despite the chaos whirling around him.

I started to read as Mom leaned forward, trying to hear what I was saying.  It was impossible.  Firemen had arrived and were loping through the area, a steady stream of wheelchair bound patients were still arriving, and a hard-of-hearing man and his wife had joined us in the alcove and she was trying to give him an update on what was going on.

Just then one of the administrators came and told us all, "Please assemble either in the Chapel or the Recreation Room.  We need to keep this common area clear."

We all started dutifully filing down another hall towards the rooms.  I pulled Mom's wheelchair in behind two staff members who were pushing a patient in a bed.  All of a sudden, WHAM!  I got banged in the back of my legs by a walker.

"Are you going to move or what," a querulous voice asked.

"I can't move until the bed moves in front of me," I tried to explain.  "Everyone is moving slowly.  You'll just have to be patient."

We made our way into the chapel.

"Is everything going to be alright?" one of the residents asked.

"I can't think of a safer place to be," one of the staff replied.

"Amen to that," I answered.  "OK, Mom, let's try to find out where this cow got off to, shall we?"

I began to read again but only got a page or two more into the story when the "all clear" call came and we were directed to return to our rooms so they could do a head count.  Back I wheeled Mom to her room.  As we entered her hall, I jokingly said, "Mom, were you smoking in the bathroom again.?"  The staff walking by, Mom, and I all had a good laugh.

As things settled down, I sat on Mom's bed and started to read the story to her once more.  Oh, oh, there went that blasted fire alarm again.

"Darn," wailed a staff member in the hallway, "we just sent those firemen home."  She saw me poking my head out of Mom's room and advised me to just stay put with Mom until they did a quick investigation.  Soon the alarm went off but by this time the firemen were back and staff were swarming in the hall once more.

"OK, Mom, I'm going to stay here for a little bit longer just to make sure everything is OK but then I'm going to head out.  I don't think Cow #24 is going to have that calf today," I laughed.

Mom laughed, too.  "I don't either, " she said, "but we had our own excitement."

We did indeed.

A Nonagenarian and Still Causing Problems!

My mom is ninety-eight years old (and well on her way to turning ninety-nine) and she seems to still be stirring up trouble.  Case in point, -----

Today I drove over to the nursing home to visit her and when I walked into her room, her roommate (who looks to be a spry 70ish) stuck her head between the dividing curtains and glared at me.

"Hi, Miss Eva, how are you today," I politely inquired.

"Well, I have a big problem," she responded.

"Oh, no," I replied.  "What's the matter?"

"Her!" Eva answered, pointing at my mother who was lying innocently in her bed.

"My mother?" I said incredulously.  "What's she done?"

"I can't keep her," Eva answered.

"Well, then it's a good thing you don't have to because she doesn't belong to you," I replied.

"But she's HERE!," she persisted.

"That's because she's your roommate," I told her.

"I'm not supposed to have a roommate, " she insisted. (Mind you, Eva is a fairly new addition to my mom's room.)


"Then keep this curtain closed and pretend she's not there," I suggested.

"But it's not my curtain," she answered.

"All the more reason to keep it closed," I said.

I glanced over at Mom.  "Hey, Ma....remember your first roommate.....the one you threw the shoe at?", I asked her.

"No," she answered.

"The one whose husband came up to visit every day," I continued.

"Oh, yes," she replied.  "She was nice."

"Yes, I really liked her.  I think she was the best roommate you ever had," I told her.   (Unfortunately she passed away and the next roommate got it in her head that Mom was trying to steal her husband away from her, even though her husband had passed away and it was a male nurse, not her husband and it was all in her head.   THAT roommate was so obnoxious about the imagined transgression that Mom was transferred to another room where she had a roommate that was just there temporarily on rehab and then departed back home.  Now we have Eva.)


Now I admit that I might have said that last part about the "best roommate" a little louder than necessary out of spite because frankly, I was still a little miffed with Eva over something she'd said last week.  I had arrived to visit Mom and when I walked into the room, Eva took one look at me and said to her daughter (who was visiting), "Oh, no...it's her again.  It's just disgusting.  She's here every day for 3-4 hours at a time."

I was astonished.  I'm usually there twice a week for an hour at a time and I always try to take her off to the library where we can visit and read books together in peace.  Oy!

And here I thought that my days of trying to keep the peace between kids was over.  Guess I'd better dust off my copy of Dr. Spock and try some of those old techniques on Mom and her roommate.

Excuse Me, Aren't You Overlooking Something?

I was reading the paper today and noticed this picture attached to an article about high school students being trained to work in health occupations.  I'm just showing you a portion of the picture but if you zoomed out, you'd see a young lady happily folding a sheet or pillowcase while these two "pretend" nursing home residents are seated at the table next to her.

Um, call me crazy but there's a bit of a problem here.  The one guy's head is on BACKWARDS!  His wrist isn't looking too healthy either.  It could be fractured.  It's certainly at an angle that doesn't come naturally.  Yet this student is folding linen.  Hello!  What are they teaching the kids in this Vo-Tech school?

Note to my kids:  If the time ever comes when I have to go into a nursing home, do NOT send me to any place that employs staff that have been trained at this institution.  If you do, dire things could happen.  They might come to change my bed sheets and end up diapering my head and feeding my backside.  I shall come back to haunt you if this happens.  Consider yourself warned!

Tentative Tickles

The last two times that we've taken little Sweet Pea and Spud to visit their Great-Grandmother in the nursing home, Sweet Pea has been very shy and quite hesitant to approach "Grandma Toots."  That's understandable since I doubt she's ever seen anyone as old or even someone in a wheelchair and she only gets to see her once or twice a year.  But on each visit, there have been little tentative steps to establish a relationship.

Today when we visited, we all went down to the lounge and at first, Mika entertained us all by playing "Boo" with her brother.

She wasn't quite sure what to make of it when "Spud" ambushed her at one point and I'm not sure that he knew what to make of it either but he seemed to be game for the fun.

When we suggested that Sweet Pea try to "scare" Grandma Toots by playing "Boo" with her, she thought it over and then (with a few appropriate dramatic shrieks from Grandma) decided it might be fun.

She leaned over and said "Boo" and Mom yelped and shivered (a performance worthy of an Oscar, I can assure you).

Sweet Pea got bolder and came over to the wheelchair and tickled Grandma Toots' leg.  "Aaaah, oooh," trilled her great-grandmother.

"I think Grandma Toots fell asleep," I said.  "Why don't you try tickling her knee and see if you can wake her up?"

Sweet Pea gave a little tickle and Mom giggled, threw up her hands and said, "Whee!"

Little Spud wasn't saying "Whee" later when we sat him on Grandma Toots' lap.  He quickly made his displeasure known.

"Who in the world are you?" he seemed to be thinking, "And what did you do with my mommy?"

We finished up our visit by singing Christmas carols acapella and at some point we looked over and saw that  Mom had nodded off.  I guess she'd had quite enough excitement for one day.  Who knows?  Maybe on our next visit, Sweet Pea will be brave enough to hitch a ride on Grandma Toots' wheelchair.

Renegotiating the Laugh Lines

Back in my 20's, I used to tell people that I wasn't afraid of aging nor a few wrinkles.  I would say, "I hope I have laugh lines because that will mean that I've laughed a lot through life."  That became one of my mantras, right up there with ...."Heck, no....I'm not afraid to tell you how old I am.  I consider it a real blessing that I've made it THIS far."

I'm starting to rethink that first part of my aging philosophy though.  I mean, when I signed on for laugh lines, I was thinking of a few little lines heading out from the corner of my eyes.  Just a few to add some happy character to my face, you know?

I didn't know that they were going to extend out and around half my face, like cracks in a darn windshield or feathers in angels' wings, if you want to give them a more heavenly metaphor.  Goodness, I could provide an angel with its entire wingspan with the lines on this face.

And another thing!  Since when did the "saggy baggy elephant" come to live at my house?  I don't recall inviting that character inside.

I suppose the culprit is that I tend to be very expressive when I talk and when I laugh.  I use my whole face and my entire body.  Some well-preserved ladies advocate remaining physically "detached" when going through life.....trying not to move any more muscles in their faces than they have to in order to avoid wrinkles.  I guess I could try that but to me, I just look like I'm high on something.

Or I could try that "half-smile" thing where you sort of acknowledge the humor in a situation but not enough to crack a real smile.  It might gain me a month or two before another wrinkle sets in.

You know what?  Screw that!  I've earned every one of these wrinkles and I've had a great time getting them.  Laughter and life should both be approached with gusto.  Let others Botox themselves rigid.  At some point, those faces are going to melt and drop and maybe I'll be the wrinkled, chuckling lady mopping them off the floor.

Related articles

• Oh no Nana has wrinkles (grannyintraining.com)
• It's official: laughing makes you sick (yarpnews.wordpress.com)

A Mother's Heritage

My mother is 97 years old this year and she's passed on a wonderful legacy to me over the years.  Here are some of the "gifts" she has given me, in no particular order of importance:

1.  For teaching me the value of an good education, thank you, Mom.  Not only did you pave the way by being a role model in a day and age when many women didn't go on to pursue a higher education, but you also showed me that learning doesn't stop at a certain age.  Lifelong learning should be our goal.

2.  For passing on a love of animals to me, thank you, Mom!  You grew up loving your pets and that has never stopped.

You could remember the names of the horses and cows on the farm and told me so many marvelous stories of some of the real characters, like Grace, the trotter who thought she was better suited for a racetrack than pulling a farmer's wagon.

You went to bat for me when I wanted pets as a child (when my dad really wanted no part of an animal in the house) AND you cared for my pets later on when I was overseas.

3.  For taking time out of a busy career to plan some great childhood parties, thank you, Mom!
I know you were often exhausted at the end of a long week of teaching but you always came through and somehow whipped up special times to celebrate my birthdays.

I STILL remember that one particular "Pioneer" party that we had when we made cornhusk dolls and Tommy Jacoby discovered that cats were using our sandbox as a cat litter box.

4.  For fostering my love of the farm, thank you, Mom!  You took me back to your childhood farm every summer where I spent magical months living a Tom Sawyer existence.  I grew so attached to that farm that I still cry whenever I think that it now belongs to someone else.

Luckily I was able to take my own children out to the farm for one visit before it was sold.  I know they will never understand the deep attachment that I have to it but my own daughter sensed it in a small way when she wrote me this note on the day we drove away from the farm -

5.  Thank you for indulging my imagination by helping me dress up in crazy costumes.  I went through quite a few stages as I grew up.  There was my "indian" phase.

Then there was my "Hans Brinker" phase when I wanted to be a little Dutch girl and have long, long hair.  Your nylons had to make do.

You even indulged me in junior high when I was going through my "Heidi" stage and wanted to live in the Alps. 

6.  For encouraging my love of reading from an early age, thank you, Mom!  I can't imagine a life without books.  I've discovered so many wonderful worlds through reading.

7.  For showing me that it's ok to be a little nutty, thank you, Mom!  Throughout my childhood and on into adulthood, you were endearingly screwball at the most inappropriate times.  I loved it and I owe my own zaniness all to you.

8.  For raising me to believe that it was ok to marry later in life, thank you, Mom.    I followed your role model and didn't feel all that pressure to get married right out of high school or college like so many of my peers.  Because of this, I experienced so many great adventures before finding my partner in life and was truly ready to settle down without regrets.

9.  For teaching me to play piano, thank you, Mom!  You set me firmly on the road to loving music and it has been such a blessing over the years.

10.  For teaching me the value of friendship, thank you, Mom!  Your friends have always been important to you.  All of my life, you've been dragging me here and there to visit friends and relatives.  I might have complained at the time, but it demonstrated to me, nevertheless, what a loyal friend is like.

I think it is indicative of the type of friend you are, that the majority of your friends have remained friends for life.

11.  For modeling for me how a daughter should care for her mother when she is advanced in years, thank you, Mom!  I was watching you when Grandma could no longer live on the farm alone.  I saw how you interacted with her and how you included her in your daily life.  I observed the love you lived out in actions and how you cared for her, even when it wasn't easy.  I hope that I am being that kind of daughter to you now.

12.  For modeling how to be a grandmother, thank you, Mom!  You were the only grandmother that my children knew.  Later, as my children were married, I knew that when the day came that I would have grandchildren of my own, I wanted to be a grandmother just like you.

13.  Last, but not least, for showing me the need for God in my life, thank you, Mom!   I don't have a picture to show this but really, this is reflected in every picture I have of you, Mom.  Your faith  has been reflected in your entire life and I'm so grateful for having such a Godly mother.

Happy Mother's Day!