Scents
I got up and actually curled my hair and put on some different clothes today. I was hoping that if I used a little hairspray the curl might last until my flight in the morning since the shuttle is coming to pick me up between 4:30 and 5:00am (EST) but I hadnt used any mousse or styling gel so, in spite of the spray, all hair was straight by the time I finished my walk. But, oh, what a lovely walk it was!
This was the first time I was outside all week. I thought maybe Id just step outside and get a breath of fresh air, but once I stepped outside I just kept walking. I took the sidewalk up through the parking area and down to the duck pond with the waterfall. It was perfect outdoors maybe 65 degrees, somewhat overcast, but balmy. After a few winter months in Chicago, this Florida air was like honey. I walked by all the ponds in the village breathing in the fresh clean air and breathing out the stale scent of old age that had built up in my nostrils; the scent of urine and dentures and dead skin cells mingled with the hopelessly cloying fragrance of bath powder and strong perfume and the smell of my own fear not so much the fear of growing old (although that was definitely part of it), but more the fear of being in a position where I will be the one in the wheelchair and MY daughter will be the one pulling up MY robe and struggling with MY Depends. The fear that I will know the secret horror shes feeling at seeing my sagging body and being so acquainted with my bodily functions. And I fear being the cause of the self-loathing she will feel at being repulsed by her own mother. Maybe Alzheimers disease would be a better way to go, like my father, because at least then youre not even aware of what youre inflicting upon other people. I think I want to die before I get old, with the understanding that by old, I mean incapable of caring for myself. I dont really want to live a long life. I dont care what my daughter thinks she wants or what my family wants. In this one thing I feel very selfish. I want to die before I lose the ability to go to the bathroom, shower and care for myself on a daily basis.
I realize that if that were the case with MY mother, I might have lost her some time ago and I certainly feel it would have been a terrible loss to our relationship had we not had some of the times and conversations weve had over the past few years regardless of her physical condition. Im glad shes alive and overall I enjoy my time with her which is why I go back so frequently. I just dont want that for MY old age. I dont want my children seeing me that way. Id rather be dead.
My mother has always had a more casual attitude toward her dignity and privacy. She was never shy when we went on trips and was always fine about changing clothes in locker rooms or getting tests in hospitals. She just doesnt have an overly developed sense of modesty. I, however, couldnt stand it. I couldnt live like that. It would be unbearable.
So, with those thoughts in my mind, I made my way back to the apartment and the morning home health aid took her leave. Mom and I had a pleasant Sunday spending a great deal of it talking about a book I am reading that is set in the area where my husband grew up. That led to a long conversation about his childhood and teen-age-hood and all he and his friends went through in their formative years. She was fascinated with the stories I recounted for her and I realized those stories are pretty fascinating so I may start recounting them (no names) in my diary as well.
Later on, Moms friend, Mary, came up and played cards then made martinis (I abstained being on antibiotics). She also made kielbasa and potatoes for dinner which was actually quite good. I made several kielbasa sandwiches on buns from the leftovers for Mom, freezing a few and storing the rest in her fridge so shed have some delicious lunches during the coming week. I cleaned and organized her fridge and made sure all was in order.
In the evening we watched some Johnny Carson tributes then Desperate Housewives. Mom was pretty tired out after that and was ready for bed. Once she was tucked in, I set the alarm on my telephone then read for an hour or so before getting to sleep.