It is the first Wednesday of the Month which means another installment of the Insecure Writer's Support Group hosted by Alex, The Ninja, Cavanaugh and his merry co-horts. If you wish to unleash your angst, to the world , well, at least fellow bloggers, this the place to find encouragement when you feel frustrated, down, or lacking in self-esteem. I consider myself ...gosh, I don't know, someone who has joined(Alex said I could many moons ago) even though I am not a writer and have no novels to show except my little ole blog-consider it fun.
My mom is a grandma...never call her that, she is an Oma. She is my mom and resides in long term care because she has dementia. Now, she knows who I am and my brother, and can engage in conversation even though it is always on rewind. Until 3 months ago, she rarely left her room and was always in bed. She had no desire to sit in the lounge, which she referred to as the "death lounge" nor participate in any activities...until Gladys showed up.
This poor lass, named Gladys, is probably only in her 60's but has dementia as well and when she first came to Heidehof, the employees had to watch her because she was tying to escape. Soon enough, I noticed my mom becoming more tense in wanting to know why she, herself, was there, what happened to her home (she had not lived in her home since 1991 and lived with me for the past 12 yrs until Nov 2011) and was arguing that she could care of herself. This reminded me of where she was back in 2012 but I noticed she was now often sitting with Gladys! Aha!!
These 2 old gals are like the grumpy men from the Muppets now. My mom is rarely in her room and is always sitting in the lounge with Gladys where they make fun of every person there whether they be a fellow patient, nurse, PSW or a visitor. No one escapes their wrath. They talk and snicker like school girls and if they can't sit together my mom puts up a fuss! I am glad my mom is now out walking and joining in because she didn't do that before, but they have been known to tell others to "shut-up" when some start yelling. They argue with the nurses and my wonderful mom won't take no for an answer...that is my mom. The PSW's call her...spunky.
I feel my next stop is at a biker shop to purchase a leather jacket and find some rub-off tattoos for both of them. Hell, my mom did own a motorcycle back in the early 1950's when she lived in Dusseldorf. I hope you have the time to watch this Monty Python skit which I love...













