And back again...

After clearing out mom's apartment, filling the storage unit, and integrating some of her things into our household, my trip to Greece was a much welcomed and fabulous event.  (See jwkjohnson3.wordpress.com).    Now back and feeling rested, Mom seems content with things.  Though we've shared with her that we all are enjoying some of her material possessions in our homes, I'm not sure she understands the enormity of this, or at least the implications--i.e. she's giving up these things, relinquishing them to us. One thing I noticed when I once again visited mom after my return, was that the room of the woman down the hall (who had eaten at mom's table) was now occupied by another person.  Good grief, I wondered, what had happened to Irene?  She seemed a gentle soul whose narrow, aging face appeared to hang, looking as if it were melting.  One benefit of this was few wrinkles--so interesting how our faces age so differently.  And though Irene couldn't talk much, I could tell by the light in her eyes that she recognized me as I'd greet her in the hallways. I wondered if she'd been transferred to a station for more "needy" residents.

My answer to Irene's disappearance came two days after I'd returned from Greece.  I didn't recognize Irene from her obituary photo in the Albert Lea Tribune.  This photo showed a plump Irene--one filled with spunk.  I wondered what had happened in the weeks I'd been gone that led to her dying, for she'd seemed stable and relatively healthy when I'd left.

And now obituary notices of two more residents Mom and I have had coffee with have stared back at me from the paper.  These two had convalesced in the rehab unit, yet in black and white were their death notices.  They'd seemed quite capable of living for a long time--what had happened?  How had these seemingly "healthy" souls suddenly died?

In contrast, mom seems robust, despite the fact she might weight a mere 90 lbs. or so.  And with her easy-to-care-for hair naturally becoming, she looks great most days (at least when she hasn't dribbled food on her clothes).  Her nails are trimmed and often polished, and we try hard to dress her in attractive clothes.  I found some size 2 petite slacks for her the other day and just knew I had to get them--something only a 93-year-old nursing home resident could get away with.  Think they're smashing on her!  And yet I wonder, what will be her story?  What events will lead to her obituary?