Have you noticed your parents as they get older do not try so hard to
entertain you? Perhaps it is just physical restrictions or a mental realization
that you are not as important anymore.
I don’t believe they don’t care but when they are in a wheelchair or a
bed, they are the focus of attention. Have you noticed they don’t want to be?
What’s up with that?
Grandma or Grandpa should be pampered upon their later years, but they
don’t like all the fuss. What is it about getting old that we descend into
ourselves? When family and friends are around, they try to look like they are
enjoying all the flowers and cards and long speeches that puts them to sleep,
because the rest of their time is waiting to be fed and engulfed in their own
thoughts.
No matter the home’s activities, and elderly person has plenty of time to
reflect on their life as it starts to fade. The physical abilities are
obviously going and if the mental capabilities hold up, they are lost in their
dreams.
I just figure you get set in your ways.
I put my shoes over here and I put my laundry over there and I put my
glasses in the same spot every night. Then someone comes in and starts
rearranging all your patterns. This is worst than just losing your keys or
forgetting you had left the cottage cheese out. This is changing your routines.
When we are younger this disruption to our daily patterns are not so
disturbing because everyday is a new adventure. Complying with a companion is
easy to achieve the pleasure of their company.
As we age, reading becomes more difficult and moving from place to place
takes longer and just getting out of bed is a process of determination. The
little things become must more important.
Is the toothbrush in the same place? Are the shoes where I left them? Is
my coffee cup where it is supposed to be or has it been moved? Any disruption
to this pattern can ruin a day.
I think of a neighbor who was here when I moved in. She and her husband
had settled into a home and enjoyed a life of retirement. He died. She got
Alzheimer’s and progressively left reality. I remember going into her house to
talk to her live-in nurse and she just sat in a chair staring into the fog. She
could be prompted to move and eat but she never spoke a word. Her eyes told
volumes of what may have been bouncing around in her head of these people
invading her inner sanctum.
Will I get to that point? I hope not, but every morning I wake up to the
sunrise and start another day. I will follow my daily routine as long as I can
without looking too far into the future or dwelling too much on the past.
I’m set in my ways.
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