Mindless musings and filial failings
9:32 a.m.
While raking yesterday, I played the free-association game in my mind. Mindless work is perfect for that, often rendering interesting ideas for writing up later, if I can only remember what they were. At one point I burst out laughing and had to explain myself to Hubby. I was thinking about a certain Simpsons episode where Bart is medicated with something stronger than the usual ADD medication and starts to develop a paranoia that he is being spied on by a satellite run by the baseball consortium. This in fact turns out to be the case. I then thought about mind control and wandered to the scene in Signs where Mel Gibs�n�s character comes downstairs to see his brother and children sitting on the livingroom couch with aluminum foil on their heads. This struck me as so funny that I laughed out loud.
(Reading over my shoulder just now, Hubby commented that we diarists have too much time on our hands. Now why would he say such a thing?)
The other thing I thought about were the various telephone conversations I had on Sunday morning, first with my brother in Israel and then with my mother. Firstly, here is an excerpt from an email I sent him a couple of days ago:
We also got to see Mummy both on the way in and out. She�s seeing very poorly, and it�s difficult on us, the observers, to watch her spread margarine on her corn, for example. �As she�s probably mentioned to you, eating is no longer a pleasure for her, she�s getting tinier and tinier every time I see her, and just consumes enough so that she is not hungry. �She lost her hearing-aid quite a while ago, and is not hearing well either. �I�m caught between wanting to �do� for her, and not wanting her to feel that she is incapable. �I just wish that L. would check in on her more often. �It would not be so terrible for him to pick up the phone once a week just to see if she needs anything, or to pop over to make sure she�s okay. �She is too damn proud to call him for anything unless it�s a real emergency, and is too concerned about getting him in trouble with his wife, if you know what I mean. �I hate the fact that I live too far to be of any real help to her.
He wrote back:
I spoke with L. yesterday� and urged him to give Mummy more attention, even if it�s just dropping in for a half-an-hour a couple of times a week, and let him know what she�s thinking and stewing about in her weak and vulnerable position. �He really seemed to have no idea about that, so I hope I helped him see it her way.
Then I got a telephone call from him, wherein we talked about this and that, his impending visit at the end of September/beginning of October and the possibility of taking a bus here with his wife and son to visit us for a couple of days. Then this business of our brother shirking his filial duties came up, and it seems that they had their conversation before R. got my email. So it was on his mind too. What really irked me was that L. hadn�t even considered going the extra step, totally oblivious to the fact that his 85-year-old mother who is going blind and has only partial hearing might need to be looked in on from time to time. Oy vey!
Anyway, R. and I got talking about Mummy and her situation, and how it is deteriorating steadily. She no longer enjoys eating since everything is tasteless to her. She can�t see to read except for the large-print books the bookmobile brings over once a month. She doesn�t watch much T.V. and has trouble hearing it anyway. She confesses to being bored. and the saddest part of this is that there is no light at the end of the tunnel until the Light at the end of the Tunnel.
from harri3tspy :
This sounds so much like what's going on with my grandmother, who's about the same age. Mostly she's lonely and bored and the family is too far away to help and she won't move closer to us. I hope things improve!
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