Mint Juleps for Grandma

I am a writer.  I write constantly.  Right now I am working on a supernatural thriller.  Oh...and taking care of Mom.  So here I sit writing away with Mom sitting next to me in her Alzheimer's stupor (as I so disrespectfully call it) watching Dr. Phil.  I am distracted by a teen runaway being confronted by her parents.  Dr. Phil dispenses his advice as my mother stares. I try to return to my writing but must now recreate the mood.  Okay, I'm back into it again. Suddenly Mom comes alive remarking that the girl's hair is a mess.  "Someone should talk to her about how she appears on TV."

"She's a runaway, Mom.  She's been living on the streets," I explain.

"Well if she fixed her hair she would look better!"

ARGH!  I go back to my writing trying to ignore what is happening on TV and my mother's comments.

Mom continues to talk.  "She should be embarrassed." Later she adds that people have no common sense.  I don't even ask what that particular comment means.

When Dr. Phil finishes, Mom is up like a shot and practically running to the kitchen counter like Pavlov's dogs.  The closing music is a signal that lunch is ready; only, it isn't.  I look up and abandon my writing.  I go to the counter to tell her, "Mom, it's not time to eat yet.  I haven't even started lunch."

"What?  I can't hear you," she replies.

"I SAID LUNCH ISN'T READY."

Mom's selective hearing kicks in.   "Lunch?  Yes thank you."

"No lunch.  Not yet. I haven't even started it yet."

"Huh?"  She cups her hand to her ear in that universal gesture that says, 'speak louder.'

"NO LUNCH!  GO AWAY!"

"What?"

I throw my arms up in the air and begin making her lunch.  It's no use telling her anything else.  She sits practically panting and waiting for the sandwich.  I decide to make her favorite -- peanut butter and jelly.  She has no idea what she's eating when I serve it to her.  I ask her if she likes it and she replies, "It's delicious!"

"What is it?" I ask her.

"Um...uh...it's a sandwich."

"Yes, but what kind of sandwich?"

She thinks for a long time and takes two more bites.  She has now forgotten the question but like a Pit Bull I hang on and won't let go.  "What is it?" I ask again.  Mom doesn't respond. I finally give up and tell her.  "It's peanut butter and jelly."

"Ohhh," she says.  "I've never had that before."

The other night I made her a chicken pot pie, some asparagus, and put cottage cheese on the plate.  She didn't know (or like) what she was tasting, got up and walked away.  "Aren't you hungry?" I asked.

"No.  I'm full."

"But you only had a couple of bites."

"Oh?"  She looked down at the plate and shook her head.  "I'm really full."

I insisted that she have a couple more bites before leaving.  She complied taking a taste of the pie but then turned her nose up to the other stuff.  I went and got some sweet apricot preserves, mixed them into the cottage cheese and suddenly she devoured it with gusto.  Sadly she also mixed the asparagus and the chicken pot pie in with the cottage cheese and apricot preserves.  I walked away unable to watch.

* * * *

It is Kentucky Derby Day and Skip and I are making Mint Juleps.  "Hey Mom," I yell from three feet away (she's really hard of hearing.)  "Do you want a Mint Julep?" I joke.

"SURE!"  she answers enthusiastically.

I ask her if she knows what that is and she reports, "It's some kind of drink.  I love them!"

Hmmm.  Dare I?  She takes no medication so what's the harm?  I fix one for her.  I dilute hers with a little water and give it to her with a straw.  She sucks it down like a Hoover before I have finished pouring Skip's and mine.  We nurse ours along for 45 minutes.  Mom sits quietly watching the Derby licking her lips and smiling.  

EXCELSIOR! I think that I have discovered the secret of writing uninterrupted.  Just kidding of course but oh how tempting.