Diary of a SubUrban Housewife

A Visit With My Mother

En route to our cruise, we decided to spend 2 1/2 days at my mother's in Orlando. It's really the shortest amount of time one can go for a visit without looking like they're only stopping by for dinner. Just stopping by for dinner would be fine, but we live 3,000 miles apart, and see each other only once a year. So yeah, 2 1/2 days is really the minimum amount of time.

Visiting my mother is stressful for me. Visiting my mother with my husband in tow is even more stressful. To say that the hub tolerates my mother would be a bit of an understatement.

In my defense, I told Chuck he didn't have to come to my mother's. He could have met us in Ft. Lauderdale. But being the husband of the century that he is, he said he'd come with us. And in my mind, by agreeing to come when I said he didn't have to (and really really meant it) he has no license, whatsoever, to bitch. Not even a little bit.

At yesterday's outing my mother dropped a little bombshell on me. She's going to see a neurologist because she's been forgetting things a lot lately. This has her very scared. When my grandmother died (her mother) she had advanced Alzheimer's. My mother is certain she's got the early stages of the disease. Lovely way to wind up an afternoon outing.

After my mother went to bed last night I had a bit of a heart-to-heart with my stepfather. I'm here to tell you it was probably the longest conversation I've had with the man in the 35 years I've known him.

According to my stepfather, yes, my mother has been a bit forgetful lately; but it seems to be selective forgetfulness. That is, she doesn't remember things she doesn't really seem to care about, or things that are of no interest to her. (Hmmmmm.....no more wondering where I get that from.)

He knows she'll feel much better after she sees the doctor. My mother is a bit of a drama queen. She also fancies herself a doctor. So of course she's diagnosed herself with the worst possible case scenario she could.

So here I am, bursting at the seams to get out of here and get on with my actual vacation, and torn about wanting to stay and make sure she's really OK and help calm her nerves (which admittedly I am not very good at and would end up making us both crazy, but it's the thought that counts, no?).

Posted by beth at March 31, 2004 09:08 PM