A memorable visit you may want to forget

The only thing harder than visiting your mom in the care center (nursing home) is not visiting her.

You put on your best positive attitude and walk into her room.

There is a noticeable frown on her face, and she appears to be ashamed that you see her like this. Or maybe she is ashamed to have a child that doesn’t come to visit every day.

You start off with a cheery, “Hi, Mum,” and wait for the clouds to go away. No such luck.

She is silent for a bit, then sobs, “I guess you heard?”

“No, mom. Heard what?”

“I lost my job.”

“Your job?”

“Yeah.”

“Mom, you’re 84 years old. You haven’t worked for 30 years.”

She fixes a confused but apparently angry gaze upon you.

You almost wish that you had played along with her story. Now she thinks that you are lying to her. Or that you are confused yourself.

So you reassure her that she is supposed to be unemployed and then change the subject to lighten her mood.

It doesn’t work.

So you move other topics, reliable mood boosters like your siblings. Her other children.

You mention each one by name and advise her of your latest news on each. She doesn’t take the bait. You move on to her own siblings. No use to go to grandchildren, she hasn’t a prayer of remembering them.

Her gloom persists.

Finally, you give up. “Mom, what’s got ya down today?”

“I forget.”

She doesn’t mean that she forgets why she is down. She means that she is blue because she has forgotten everything she ever knew.

However, you still have sufficient wits about you to realize that she is yourself in ruins someday.

A female attendant brings in lunch on a tray. Mother watches her every move but does not say a word. You say thanks.

After the attendant goes out of the room, mother looks hard at you.

“They are doing weird things to me in this place,” she says out of the side of her mouth in a whispered voice that she used for the telling of secrets back in the old days.

She waits for you to respond as any decent child would.

You don’t know what to say, “OK, Mom, I will speak to them on my way out. I’ll make ’em stop it.”

She looks away. She still is sufficiently perceptive to tell that her complaint was not taken seriously.

You coax her to eat her dinner.

She eats some Jell-O and the dessert. She says she is tired.

Nap time.

You wonder if she nods off intentionally to facilitate your escape. The guilt is in the leaving.

At least she knew who you were today. It could have been another “Who am I? And who in the hell are you?” kind of a day.

Your time here is done. You will feel better about yourself until tomorrow.

“Bye, Mom.” She continues to sleep.

You enter the hallway to look for a staff member because there were several things that you wanted to discuss with the person in charge here at the care center.

A few moments pass and no one appears. Where is everyone at? All busy, somewhere.

It’s time for you to be getting home. And you can’t remember most of what you wanted to discuss anyway.