From time to time, we dust Mom off and put her in the car. A change of
scenery is a good thing and refreshes my disposition. Yesterday, we
decided to drive to Albermarle to see our granddaughter, Julie perform
in her dance competition. I warned Mom ahead of time that there would
be very loud music--modern music, hip hop, rock, dance beat, and the
like. Normally Mom would detest this. In the past, whenever she heard
contemporary music...rock 'n roll she would curl her lip in disdain.
She would tell us, "I like classical music." I used to react angrily
telling her that there is beauty in all kinds of music. I used to
council her to be more open minded, more accepting. But...something had
changed. Now she was different. She reinforced my statement that I had a
different mother now. Mom, who never watched sports, who never
listened to anything but classical music, who never watched daytime TV
had become my music-accepting, sports-watching, Dr. Phil-fan,
game-show-watching mother.
As we entered the loud auditorium on
Saturday, we ushered Mom to a theater seat passing excited dancers,
jumping children, spinning dancers practicing in the isles as they
awaited their call time. I was unapologetic about us blocking the isle
with her walker. Younger feet could navigate. They could walk around.
They could manage the stairs, the aisles, the ramps far better than my
mother. Mom was easily the oldest person in the audience by at least 20
years. I looked around at the young families toting small siblings back
and forth as the dancing brothers and sisters danced and performed for
the judges and appreciative audience. We were there with time to spare
as we sat in the darkened auditorium. Competition performances were
always exciting and you could feel the electricity in the audience as
one group after another gyrated their way across the stage. Then it was
our granddaughter's turn. We prepared Mom. We told her where to look
for Julie. She sat up straighter, more engaged. She smiled broadly and
pointed as her great granddaughter appeared. She watched attentively
and when the dance was done, she applauded enthusiastically. There was
one more dance that Julie was in. We waited through some good, some
not-so-good performances as we anticipated the reappearance of the
reason we had traveled 1 hour and 45 minutes. When Julie stepped onto
the stage it was as if the sun was shining more brightly. I looked at
Mom and there was a goofy grin on her face. She was entranced,
transformed by the performance. She was oblivious to the strong beat
that would have set her nerves on edge in the past. Not today! Sitting
between us, she was attentive, appreciative, and surprisingly lucid.
When
we were ready to leave, Mom maneuvered her way out of the theater
without incident. Our younger granddaughter, three year old Lilly
provided some additional entertainment in the lobby as she charmed her
great-grandma (GiGi) with stories, smiles, and giggles. Mom kept
repeating how adorable Lilly was. Then Julie emerged from the dressing
room still wearing makeup and looking years older than she actually is.
Mom gasped and said how beautiful Julie was. She congratulated her on
her lovely dances and smiled happily as Julie thanked GiGi for coming
with a sincere hug.
It was a good day. Mom was silent but
alert on the ride home. I asked her if she had enjoyed herself and she
replied, "Oh yes! It was a LOVELY day!" It was late when we returned
home and got dinner on the table. Mom did not complain. I was thrilled
to see this reversal in her behavior. It didn't last of course. By
the end of the meal, Mom stood up to leave. This time, however, she
decided to carry her plate to the sink. I watched appreciatively as she
cleared her place of her plate, cup, fork and napkin. Before I could
celebrate, I saw her open the cabinet door and pull out the trash bin.
Carefully she placed the china dish, the cup, and the fork in the
trash. I fished it out gently reminding her that dirty dishes go in the
sink. She appeared confused for a moment. "Did I do that?!" She
looked around to see if perhaps her evil twin were standing there doing
these unacceptable things. Perhaps it was the evil twin who then took my
mothers napkin and threw it in the sink rather than in the trash; who
took another dirty napkin and tucked it into her sleeve, and who folded
the newspaper into a tiny package and placed it inside her walker.
Well...it was ALMOST a perfect day. What I noticed was my attitude was
so much better. I was patient. I was calm. I guess one has to
appreciate the small gifts whenever they are given.
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