Trying to pinpoint a topic for today has been quite difficult; nothing seems to surface that grabs me - something that would interest a broader audience. So, the solution is - - - - I don’t know.
Sometimes there is no actual punch in the gut that causes passion, and my list of topics holds nothing either. The one mental post-it on my mind, though, has to do with memories - do we remember what we fault them for lacking?
I look back on the years before Mom became ill (that we were aware) and smile at some of her antics - for example:
We were visiting Universal Studios on our way out of LA from my brother’s wedding in the late 70’s. It was fun. We were walking by the amphitheater and could hear some rehearsing or something going on. Mom, with her usual cavalier curiosity, decided to check it out. The doors were unlocked and in she trotted. Soon, we heard a woman’s voice ask, somewhat angrily, “What is that woman doing in here?” Mom reappeared moments later with a security guard on either side. Later I was to realize that was Donna Summers rehearsing her concert which was recorded and found its way onto my shelf.
There was the time we went hiking on the trail between Seaside and Cannon Beach - in the 60’s. There had been some logging done in the vicinity and the trail became rather unfaithful and we found ourselves lost somewhere around Tillamook Head. So, Mom, my brother, Tom, and I began walking the logging roads. I had an apple but was saving it for later. Suddenly, a bear cub came wandering out and Mom grabbed that apple and threw it toward the cub. She said she didn’t want to see me eaten. I was too tired to care. We finally found ourselves near the junction of Hwy 101 and 26, hitched a ride and rode back into Cannon Beach where my grandmother was holding the phone in her calls to the police. We were fine.
Again, in Cannon Beach, we decided to hike around Chapman Point to enjoy Crescent Beach, just below Ecola Park. The water wasn’t that deep; but Mom had read the tides wrong, and we found ourselves, and our dog, Roxy, swimming between the rocks (my little legs weren’t long enough to touch sand, and Mom had me carrying the dog), until we made it safely back to the main beach. It wasn’t my idea to carry the dog, but Mom told everyone I nearly drowned in saving the pooch...Hmmmm - not sure about that story.
My brother enjoys the story of one day at the beach, we were renting at the time, we were supposed to be packing up and leaving - after cleaning - to allow for the next family to use the cabin. Well, Mom and my grandmother decided it was simply too nice a day to go so soon. They sat on the front porch and enjoyed the sun and waved at the next family who came to use the cabin (these people drove off - hopefully to return later after we’d left).
Mom had her quirks, as I’m sure most people do. She was also one to not look a gift horse in the mouth, but rather find the damn animal and make him present the gifts!
Vacations were fun, in the early days. Mom could be amiable - and then she could also be the opposite - we hoped for the former, but braced for the latter.
I remember Mom and Dad dancing at the Elk’s Club in Eugene one evening when we visited my brother and his wife while he attended law school. I don’t know I’d ever seen them dance that way before or since.
I recall Mom dancing down the aisles of the supermarkets while humming the music - and when I told her it was embarrassing, she began to do it more ostentatiously.
I would come home from high school and find her dusting the living room, wiping the keys on the piano and then trying to play a tune while singing - this was a once in a lifetime offering - and yet I saw it more than once. She came unglued when she saw me, screaming in fright - which only made me laugh harder.
So, when we talk about dementia, we speak of memory deterioration in the patient - but how many memories have we lost over the years, as well? And how do we preserve them for others to enjoy or cherish? If we don’t, then what real memory have we lost?
No comments:
Post a Comment