| I knew, that going into this job there was a chance Margaret wouldn't be around for much longer. I took into consideration that if a friendship was built between us, that friendship would end sooner than I'd like it to.
Around the end of last year I was asked to work for an adult friend of mine. I was asked to visit her mother, who at the time was completely self-sustained. Just visit, play games, go get groceries, so she wouldn't be so lonely.
The first time I met Margaret she welcomed me with a warm smile. She asked me plenty of questions about how school was going, and what I did for fun. She was quick witted, and sharp as a tack. I couldn't get anything by her. She was a school secretary for 20 years, and had a twin sister who had recently passed. She was adopted, and the tomboy twin. She had a grandson Reece, who she was very...very proud of.
We would make runs to the square to get Chocolate Malts, then a quick dash to the grocery store to pick up whatever she needed for the week. As the weeks went on she taught me how to play Rummykube. And I'm still pretty sure she bent the rules every once in awhile, but I never cared. I just enjoyed the company of someone outside the monotonous routine of school banter.
Beginning of this year she was admitted into the hospital because due to a weak heart, and problematic lungs. I still visited, and we took strolls down the hospital hallways hand in hand. I noticed only a slight change in her mental state, and pushed it aside as her frustration of being away from home.
But she did come home within a few weeks and things were back to normal. I re-introduced her to the game Sorry, which we'd go into matches of best 3/5 games. It got pretty competitive. It was during these few weeks when she started giving me a peck on the cheek and telling me she loved me. It was then I knew I'd made more than just a friendship. More like segregate grandmother.
As quick witted and sharp as she was, she was also stubborn and proud. I know she didn't like using her walker because it made her feel silly. She wanted to be able to do things on her own. This soon led to the fall that landed her in the nursing home. Most of the time when I visited her there, she was too far gone with the pain medication to carry on a decent conversation. Although I do remember one time, I visited during lunch. She was sitting at the back of the room just staring at the doorway as I walked in, it was almost like she knew I was coming down the hallway ahead of time - and her facial expression lit up and she started clapping. After recovering from the broken ribs she returned home, where I started to notice the initial decline. From the time she returned home -- to my visit today talking has become impossible. [Two weeks] Making references to a party they had last night, and Africa being located on the second floor. Of course the only thing to do is carry on the conversation, although her hearing aids don't work as well as they should and simple conversations have become a difficult task. Within three weeks Margaret had turned from walking and mentally capable, to being immobile and strong showings of dementia.
On the positive side...she still recognizes me. I can see recognition in her eyes when I talk to her, but it's like talking to a child. Margaret never seemed to be angry and rarely raised her voice. She asked me today, "Why won't you help me? Why did you make me like this?" And I know, it's only the drugs and the decline, but it still pains me.
"I loved you. You had potential, you know that? You had real potential."
My reply..."Well Margaret, I still love you."
Edit;--- June 27th, 2008
I visited a few days ago.
I didn't realize people could deteriorate so quickly.
I know she still recognizes me, but now only blames me that I can't help her 'escape and go home.' Little does she realize she's sitting in her own living room. Patsy, the worker that stays with Margaret, has more patience than I could ever imagine. I admire her for the work she does, and what she puts up with.
Through short conversations with her I've learned that in most cases - the pleasant ones become mean, and the bitter ones become nice. She gave me once piece of information that's suck in my mind. "You can either cry about it, or laugh. And crying does no good." So I don't. I'm not positive how long I can keep it up.
I stayed for two hours, and within the two hours she'd done everything from trying to spit on me, stated she was going to kill the other nurse, and made my hand turn blue from a strong grip. As weak as they may be in their state, they're incredibly strong. She loves me, she's disappointed in me, she wants me to help her escape, and she wants me to go away. Everything she does is taken with a grain of salt.
I talked to her daughter today....
She said she's down to only days.
I leave Sunday. Edit;--- June 29th, 2008
I didn't go back by to visit.
I don't want to remember her in this state.
I'm afraid I'll get the news while I'm away.
At that time I'll have to slap on a happy face because explaning all of this to someone isn't that easy.
I have to finish packing...
Edit;--- July 20th, 2008.
I found out that going back to by to visit would've been pointless.
Margaret died on the early morning of June 28th. I didn't find out until the 30th. |
