I Visit Mom, and I Am Not Allowed to Pee

 

For nearly four years I was going out to see my mom every week for lunch. Then this Covid19 crap hit. It was almost one year ago that we all agreed Mom living in her own house was not feasible anymore. At ninety seven years old she was still relatively healthy, she got around easily in her electric cart, and seemed to enjoy her home. But her short term memory was short circuiting and the fear that she would fall and hurt herself worried us. We did hire a series of ladies to live with her for a year or so, but that was expensive. Besides, we'd get used to a lady helper and start feeling comfortable, then the lady helper would quit. I think we went through eleven of them. It is quite possible that some of them quit because Mom would 'gaslight' them. She didn't think she needed a hired 'lady friend' to watch over her. Anyway, Mom is now at a facility. A very nice facility, and she has her own apartment in that facility. The problem is that when the Covid19 hit, they locked that place down tighter than a Tupperware bowl. For that we thank them because now at ninety eight years old, Mom is healthy. However, for months we weren't allowed to visit her. Now they've begun an outdoor visiting program and I've been able to see Mom twice. Second time was yesterday. We had a four o'clock appointment to see her, and at four they rolled her out onto the little patio. Mom was told to stay behind the yellow line on her side of the patio. Eight feet away, we were confined to an area behind another yellow line. Visits are limited to forty five minutes, masks must be worn, and everybody must pass the entrance interview which includes not having a fever. So there we were, me and two of my sisters, looking at Mom from afar, shouting questions and family news at her. Did I mention that Mom is hard of hearing? So I would yell something over to her and Mom would say, "What?" Then my sisters would shout across the great divide and Mom would say, "What?" My older sister, Peggy, kept making the mistake of using long sentences which would result in Mom looking over at the rest of us and asking, "What is she saying?" After forty five minutes of this I had a headache and I had to pee really bad. That's how locked down that place is. They wouldn't even allow me to go inside and use the restroom.

On The Road Again

 

Illinois Countryside mid 1970s

Okay, so I've been sort of a prisoner in this house now for five months. Before that, before the virus lockdown, I was in a semi-lockdown because Mark is in no condition to go traipsing around. I simply couldn't leave him alone for long. I now find myself dreaming of my young days when road trips were a thing for me. Fifty one years ago my two cousins and I took the Route Sixty Six road trip to Los Angeles. It was the first time I ever traveled west of Saint Louis, and it was exciting to see mountains for the first time in my life. The problem with that trip and all the road trips that followed, were time constraints. I had to return home to go to work, or I had a destination I needed to get to within a certain amount of time.

The other day I scanned a bunch of photos into my computer from my oldest photo album. Among those photos were some I took when I was a delivery man for I. Sachs Leather and Shoe Findings. My deliveries took my all around Illinois, and now when I look at those old photos I wonder why I didn't get a good camera and take a hell of a lot more.

I know this period of my life, being confined to the house most of the time, will eventually be over with. I will be set free one day, and on that day I will go on a road trip, bad eyesight and all. I will go traveling around with no plan. I will avoid interstate highways, tollways, and areas clogged with tourists. My only worry is that the window of opportunity is going to close at some point in the not too distant future. After all, they took Mom's drivers license away when she turned ninety years old. For me that's only twenty years from now. We'll see. Maybe I can push it a little further. Like until I turn ninety five. Even longer if I do it without a drivers license.

Illinois Cows 1976

Illinois church on a country road 1976

Old house and gas station somewhere in Illinois 1976

 

Old Fart Shopping

 

I did my weekly grocery shopping yesterday. Went to the early morning old people time at Jewel. As usual it was not crowded at all, and I didn't even have to use Mark's handicap tag for parking. Also, as usual, the old people rule was not being enforced. Young people were seen among all the old farts, zipping around the store, going the wrong way up the one way aisles. Like I said, it wasn't crowded so who cares. And a couple of the young people were easy on the eyes. As long as I didn't stare or drool, I figure no harm done.

So what is it with the toilet paper? I went over to the toilet paper aisle and it was filled with toilet paper. But not my toilet paper. From one end to the other were strange brands I have never heard of before. I picked up a few of the packages and squeezed them, just like Mr. Whipple. The rolls of paper were the same size as my brand, but what they were was mostly air. I'm pretty sure one roll of that off brand toilet paper would only last one, maybe two sittings. So I was upset. I would have to make those last three rolls at home go a little further. As I turned my shopping cart up the aisle (the wrong way) I saw it. An eight pack of my toilet paper brand turned upside down and backwards, stuffed in with the off brand toilet paper. The only package in the entire store. I put it in my cart right next to the box of Kellogg's Raisin Bran. I would have my morning fiber, and the correct toilet tissue for later in the day. All was right with the world.

Snack Attack

It all went into the garbage... except for the croutons

Our kitchen is packed with things. Things in cabinets, things on the counters, things under the counters, and things hanging from other things. It's Mark. He thinks that he needs everything, usually in duplicate if not more. Anyway, Last Thursday my sister Lisa came over to help me out. I was going to go see Mom and I needed somebody to watch the dogs and keep an eye on Mark. The visit to Mom was nice. She seemed in good spirits and looked healthy enough for a ninety eight year old woman. I did not tell Lisa to clean my kitchen counters off while I was out visiting Mom. I simply knew that she would. She can't help it. Lisa needs to see order and neatness. So there I was yesterday, looking at that clean and neatly cleared counter space. I knew what I had to do. Pull all the old snacks in the cabinet above the refrigerator out and put them on that counter. It was nice to have the space to do that. Thank you, Lisa. Now back to those snacks. Jammed in that upper cabinet were crackers, chips, pretzels, and various other things Mark has put on the shopping list over the years.
"I know we already have that, but it's on sale. So buy it."
So I buy what Mark tells me to buy.
Here's what I found in that cabinet. A bag of Pepperidge Farm Pretzel Goldfish, expiration date June of 2017. Another bag of Pepperidge Farm Pretzel Goldfish, expiration date September 2018. A third bag of Goldfish, expiration date August 2019. I found a very old box of grits, oyster crackers, various other crackers, all out of date. I also found an opened bag of cheese and garlic croutons, but I put that back in the cabinet because croutons are supposed to be stale. I figured they'd be extra crunchy since they expired nine months ago. The rest of the crap that I pulled out of there was tossed into the garbage. Now that I got my juices going for throwing shit out, I'm going to tackle that refrigerator. I'm sure there are jars of pickles way in the back, that were opened the week the new refrigerator was delivered. Four years ago.