In the Arthritis Foundation's Low Impact Water Exercise Program, the ages of the participants range from people in their twenties to the nineties. Several years ago, two older women came together and one of them, Bea, was in her 80's, the other, Martha, was in her 90s. Although Bea had been diagnosed with dementia, she still drove, and Martha, who was legally blind, was "sharp as a tack". One day Bea and Martha did not come to class and we learned that there had been an automobile accident and Bea was injured. Bea was away from class for awhile and although the accident was not her fault, she no longer drove.
Agnes, another classmate, said that she would bring Martha to class and I volunteered to bring Bea and take her home as she lived in my neighborhood. We had classes three days a week, and each day, I would drive up in her driveway, and Bea would be waiting; I would alight from the car, grab her satchel and off we would go to class. After class, I would take her home and I would get out of the car and make sure she was IN the house. She had a garage door opener in her bag and she would open the garage door and I would accompany her through the garage to her kitchen. I noticed Post-It Notes on the stove, refrigerator, table, etc. One day, she forgot the garage door opener. She said, "I have the code in my wallet." She handed it to me. I felt strange, knowing the code to her house. I thought to myself, "I wonder WHY none of her children has gotten in contact with me? I can't imagine that I would have allowed a stranger to have such access to my mother." Agnes said that I was an overly suspicious person. I answered, "This is how elderly people could be taken advantage of, swindled, and scammed."
Each day, during the 7-8 minutes I would spend in the car with Bea, I "interviewed" her. Although losing her short-term memory, her recollection of by-gone times seemed quite keen. I learned that she grew up in Minnesota; her father was a butcher who died when she was thirteen; her mother ran the butcher shop after the death of Bea's father. Bea met her future husband and they married and moved to a farm. They eventually moved to Ohio; she was the mother of five children and was a widow.
One day the attendant at the pool reminded Bea that she needed to pay her fee. She said that she would have to get her son to write a check. When we got to her house, I asked Bea if she wanted me to write a note to her son. I put the note on the refrigerator, with my name and telephone number. She brought a check with her the next time.
One day, during a conversation at the pool, someone said that she was "an old farm girl". Bea piped up and said, "I was a farm girl too." I said, "Bea, NO you weren't; you grew up in town; your dad was a butcher; he died when you were thirteen; you helped your mother at the butcher shop and when you got married that's when you moved to a farm." Bea giggled, sheepishly, but asked, incredulously, "HOW do you know all that?" Agnes said, sardonically, "Bea, if you wanna know anything about yourself, ask Sue; she interviews everybody and she doesn't forget anything!"
I am still stunned that none of the members of her family ever got in contact with the STRANGER who was with their mother three mornings a week for nearly a year. At Bea's funeral, I introduced myself and one of Bea's daughters asked how I knew her mother!
No comments:
Post a Comment