Skip to content

Good Days and Bad Days

October 21, 2012

In the short time that I have been on this ride with my mother, I have learned to expect the unexpected and to accept the rampant mood swings. She moves from being a loving sweet lady, to a very mean and volatile person that I don’t even recognize. This change can be as varied as the day, or the hour, sometimes from moment to moment.  Never knowing what will set her off, or what will make her smile and sing a song.   She can be smiling and happy as a lark, and the next minute she can be telling me to go to hell.

On the good days, we laugh, we sing, “You Are My Sunshine” together, look at magazines, count the number of clothes hanging in the closet and  share snacks.

These are the good days that I will always remember!

A bad day can be as simple as her lying in bed, not wanting to get up and visit with me and telling me to go away, and just go to hell.  It can also be as mean and violent as her grabbing my skin, pinching and twisting as hard as she can, with fire in her eyes and harshness on her face like I have never seen on this woman that has been my mother for 60 years.

And then there is a day like today, that leaves me longing for a bad day with her pinching me and glaring into my eyes….. that would have made this a good day.

About two weeks ago, mom gave up walking and has taken to a wheel chair on her own. She has done very well maneuvering herself around the hall and dining room.  If I tried to help her to get untangled from a dining chair that was in her way, she snarled, “I am not stupid, I can do this by myself!” Today she was suddenly so much like so many other ladies that I see sleeping in their chairs.  Looking nearly lifeless, most have their chins dropped to their chest, or their heads resting sideways on their shoulders, as they sleep, not caring what goes on in the world around them.  Mom was leaning forward resting her arms on her knees, her head just hanging down, sleeping.  I patted her back to wake her up, she raised her head and simply said, “Hi,”   then put her head back down.  I tried several times to engage her in conversation and to make her sit up, but she would just not engage into the real world with me.

So those days that I thought were bad days……, in the grand scheme of things, they really were pretty good days after all.  While they may not have been pleasant, she had spark and some sense of personality.  She was letting everyone one her know that she was still in control of some parts of her world.

It would be nice if she would sing to me again but I am just wishing she would yell at me one more time and hoping that we will still have a few more “ good” days to share.

Even if they are not pleasant!

2 Comments
  1. So I come here today, the perfect day to read this, my friend. I’ve been having a tussle with self-pity. Thank you for sharing your experience and wisdom and hope. Your mother is blessed, and you are, too– so me, too!

  2. Carolyn Mers permalink

    Thank you dear friend! As difficult as this has been, I have also been given just as many rewards. From Mom’s smiles, and the days that she says, “I Love You”, to the support from family and friends like you! I am blessed to have you in my life!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

The Purple Jacket

A Caregivers Blog About Love, Care and Commitment

When I Became an Author

My blog is about how I became an author, what steps I took and how it all started

So…You Want to Write a Book

With Author Susan K. Earl

readful things blog

The search for meaning, one page at a time

A Circle In The Path

Dealing with the mental and physical decline of my beloved mother

The Dementia Diary

Just another WordPress.com site

The Redneck Rosarian

America's Favorite Rose Gardener

The baby aspirin years

Ms. Boice falls in love, travels and eats her way through life in the post-40 years.

%d bloggers like this: