Once again, Kate slept late, and, once again, I had difficulty getting her up. Since I knew the sitter was coming at 1:00 and that I was trying to get to the Red Cross for my platelet donation, I pushed a little harder to get her up. That may account for the fact that she was grumpier than yesterday. As we prepared to walk out of the house, she apologized twice. We left for lunch at 12:30. I called Mary and asked that she meet us as Panera so that I could eat and go directly to my donation.
Before Mary arrived, I reminded Kate that this was the day for my platelet donation and that Mary would meet us and take her home. That didn’t seem to bother her at all. I was glad about that. When I got home, Kate and Mary were in the family room. Kate was working on her iPad. After Mary left, I walked over to Kate, and she rolled her eyes. It was clear that she didn’t like being left with a sitter, but she didn’t make an issue of it.
It wasn’t long before we went to dinner. Near the end of the meal, she said, “We were really lucky to have those women who took care of him.” I didn’t know who she was talking about. She continued. It sounded like she was talking about her sitters. Then she mentioned how much I helped her. She said, “I could have done it without you, but you made it so much easier.” I asked who she was talking about and discovered she was talking about the helpers who took care of her mother.
She continued to talk about the good care her mother had gotten and how glad she was that we had been able to keep her in our home. She kept repeating the same things over and over for about 10-15 minutes. Then we got up to leave. As we walked by the hostess station, we said goodbye to the owner of the restaurant. Kate said, “I’m so glad we were able take care of my mother.” She said this as though the owner had been a part of our conversation at the table.
Once in the car, she kept repeating how much I had helped her, that she could have done it herself but it was easier because of me. As in all conversations, she did not mention any specifics because she can’t remember, but she retains a strong feeling for her mother, the care she got in the last years of her life, and how good she feels about that. Even after getting home, she continued the conversation. What struck me most is that her feelings are so strong that she couldn’t let go of the topic. I don’t know anything else that can stick with her for such a long period of time.
I went into the kitchen to get something. When I came back, she was working on her iPad. I sat down to write this post. Twenty minutes later, she closed her iPad and said she was tired and that she can really “do this” (work on her puzzles) better during the day. I suggested we go to the bedroom, and I would find something on YouTube that she might enjoy. She liked that. On the way to the bedroom, she seemed confused. She said she didn’t know how she would get along without me. At first, I thought she was talking again about my support in caring for her mother. As she talked a little more, it was clear that she was talking about my caring for her. She was depending on me to tell her exactly what she needed to do. I told her I would get her a night gown, and she could get ready for bed. She needed help getting her gown on and wanted me to tell her every step to take to get ready. Several times she repeated how much she needed me. This was one of those times when I experienced both a desire to help her as much as I could while at the same time feeling sad that she was recognizing her dependence. This was not as bad as watching her painful anxiety attacks. This was simply a recognition of her dependence, and I assured her that I would always be here for her. She seemed to be accepting her dependence without any fear but with gratitude. Once again, she said how much she needed me. Then, just as naturally said, “What’s your name?”
