A Beautiful Day

Saturday, my daughter Jocelyn and I went to my mother’s Memory Care facility to take her out to lunch.  It was a beautiful November day in Denver: 78 degrees and sunny. 

We find Mom in the lobby, sitting in a semicircle with about eight other residents. The residents look bundled up, wearing heavy sweaters or coats.  They are all quiet and seem like they are waiting for something to happen.

“Are you all going somewhere?” I ask the Activity Director on duty.

“No,” she says. “We’re just hanging out.”

“Hello,” I say cheerfully to the group, and then greet a few by name. “Hi Lu!” “Hi Gene!” “Hi Joyce!”  They smile sweetly back at me. Mom gives us a small, tight smile. Jocelyn is one of my mother’s favorite people in the world and seeing her usually brings a big smile to Mom’s face.  But not today.

“Hello, Mom,” I say. “We’ve come to take you to lunch.  Let’s go back to your room and get you spiffed up.”

“No, I don’t want to,” she says,  “I can just go like this.”

“You need to dress a little fancier than your old sweater and pajama top to go to the restaurant.”

“This is not my pajama top.”  She was right about that – it was a pajama top – but not hers. I’d never seen this top before.  I am always finding clothes in her closet that don’t belong to her, and many of her shirts and pants vanish forever.  Mom doesn’t seem to care about what she wears anymore, as long as she is comfortable.  She used to be so well dressed.

We walk back to her room, and Jocelyn coaxes her into a pretty blouse and a more fashionable sweater.  We put in her hearing aids ( she NEVER has her hearing aids on when I visit, even though I remind caregivers continuously), and Jocelyn finds a necklace for Mom to wear. Mom puts on her own lipstick, and we are ready to go. She still seems to be in a bad mood.

As we maneuver our way through the hallways, Mom says snidely, “You better take a good look around, Karen.  You’ll probably be in here next.”

Jocelyn and I grimace at each other. “Ouch,” I said.  Mom just shrugs and looks annoyed.

At the restaurant, we sit at a table outside, and there is a nice little breeze blowing.  We situate mom in the only shady section of the table, and look at the menus.

“What a beautiful day!” I exclaim.  Jocelyn agrees, but Mom says, “It’s ok.”

The sun soon becomes too hot for Jocelyn and I, so we ask to sit at the more shaded table next to us.  As we move, Mom complains, “I don’t know why we have to change tables, I was fine.”  

As soon as the waitress places a glass of wine in front of us each, Mom perks up.  She smiles a bit. We enjoy a few sips as we discuss our lunch order.  Then, Mom suddenly leans back in her chair, puts her face to the sun, and takes a big swig of wine. She sighs with satisfaction and declares, “What a beautiful day!”  At last, Mom was relaxed and happy to be out with us. I hope that the other wonderful residents at Mom’s Memory Care have someone who visits them and gives them a chance to get out and enjoy the outside world.