Whew I made it….

Well, here it is at o’ dark thirty and I am finally home.  The Farmer jinxed me though.  After coming home from his night with the guys, which was celebrated about 4 towns over, and HE drove the back way home.  He came in the back door and caught me napping on the couch.  I got up and gave Momma and the Farmer a kiss, and then was headed out the door, when he said “Made it all the way home without seeing one deer“.  I stopped and asked him “Did you drive the back roads?”  “Yup, and I didn’t see one deer.”  Humph….

Me, the “Queen of the back roads”, went through town,  with a little bit of the country roads thrown in, simply because even if I drive through town, I still have country roads.

Heck, I had no sooner left the Farmer’s driveway and I saw a friggin deer.  I cautiously  drove the miles into town, and made it through town before I saw the next one.   Lucikly for me there was a car in front of me that scared it, but I saw him.  Then on the home stretch to my house, (I seriously think they have it in for me), I saw a whole herd of the suckers coming out of the cornfields to get to the bean fields on the other side of the street.

So, needless to say that a 45 minute drive, (because of going through town) turned into about an hour drive.  But when I finally turned onto my road, and pulled into MY driveway, I seriously breathed “WHEW, I made it”.

My day with Momma went pretty well.  She got her hair washed by Joyce and I, and we had lively conversations about EVERYTHING.    Momma was in rare form this evening.  We had a couple of stumbling blocks trying to get her to walk into her bedroom, but with a little coaxing, and A LOT of telling her to breathe, and let herself relax, we made it.

When she was all tucked into bed, and Joyce had left, I had given her last round of meds for the night, I told her to take a nap, so she could say “Hello” to the Farmer when he got home.  She slept for about a half an hour and then woke up and asked where the party was.

She only woke up for about 20 minutes, but we crammed a lot into those 20 minutes.  She giggled like a teenager, and then got a little confused, because she wasn’t a teenager.  She took me on a roller coaster ride, and all’s I did was hung on.  She finally went back to sleep, and I laid down on the couch.

That’s when the Farmer walked in.

I’m not sure what I feel right now.  There is not a manual to read about how a Parkinson’s person acts.  Because everyday is different, and every person is different.  I’m not scared any more, I know that.  I also know in my heart, that I can deal with anything with Momma.  I think I may be a little sad, simply for the fact, Parkinson’s has robbed Momma, and I really don’t like it, but there is nothing I can do about it.

But what I can do, is make her feel loved, and let her know, she means something to us.  So what, if she has problems putting a sentence together?  So what if her limbs don’t move the way she wants them to?  So what if she may be incontinent?  So what if she can’t do the things she used to be able to do?

She is still a person.  With Dignity.  With Pride.  With a sense of humor.  With so much love that she gives.

That’s MY Momma.



2 responses

  1. Your Momma, Terry’s Al and my Anthony – different beautiful individuals, same disease, unpredictable futures – so hard for them and for us.

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