The Keys etc
I’ve just returned from a camping trip where there was practically negative celluar service. It was such a relief to be out of the grasp of repetitive information overload for three days that I’ve realized I need to batch my mom’s incoming queries. To accomplish this my middle daughter will bring me our ‘secret’ cell phone, which was her cell line many years ago. She started using the line again when she returned to the area and began job hunting (HR, with resumes being equal, will call a local number before an out of town area code first ~ been there, done that). Now that she’s gainfully employed, the phone is free again. My family and mom’s support system on the Island can use the ‘secret’ cell number and I’ll check my cell number a couple of times a day when I am my hardiest. House phones are being turned way down too. The state of upset I was in at 10:20 Wedneday night, when I decided I needed to go camping, dispersed by the calm that settled in over the next 72 hours is something that cannot be ignored.
As I’ve said before, if mom insists nothing is wrong, she’d better live it. Yes, I know this is impossible, yet in order to provide care and support, I have to take care of myself too.
What, you are asking precipitated a need to run away from responsibilities so badly? Mom’s car keys finally tipped me over the edge. They are missing, you see. She knows they are in the house. How, you ask? Because she had just returned in the car (But she doesn’t have a license, you exclaim!!) and walked into the house. From doing what, I am unsure. The story keeps changing. I do know (pray) that she only drives to get her mail or to visit her neighbors. When trying to help from afar, I got nothing but pushback. She’d looked everywhere I’d suggested she look (Very generic ideas. Where I look when I can’t find my keys) but couldn’t just tell me she’s looked on all the shelves or in her pockets, she had to be pissy about it. So, I told her they’d present themselves when she’s not looking for them, got off the phone and gleefully told my husband ‘she won’t be driving until she finds them.’ As of Wednesday, the keys had been AWOL for days and she’s talking about having her car towed off the Island, at HUGE expense, to the dealership to have a set of keys reverse engineered. I, of course, have to be involved in this.
To add a layer of puce frosting to this conundrum, she still thinks her driving re-test is the 25th of June, meaning there’s a deadline for either finding the keys or towing the car to its dealership and back, because she can’t drive it…
Wednesday also saw an unfortunate hour where our 31 year old sliding glass door locked me out of our house on our upper deck. I had to choose between breaking a window without hand protection, attempting to break the lock mechanism on the slider (tried & failed) or rappelling off the roof deck via extension cord over a gutter I didn’t want to rip off the house and flashing I didn’t want to rip myself open on. No hand holds, A hose holder and electrical box for toe holds. Oh, no shoes either. I made it off the roof via extension cord, uncut and without electrocution. Sore muscles were my only wound. However, layering days of key woes and now a possible towing expedition on top of the sliding glass door misfortune was more than I could take. And so off I went!
As I was leaving, there were communications coming in from mom’s neighbors about her needing help and her keys. In order to keep the dialog going I went to town one day and continued these conversations via e-mail. One neighbor offered to help mom find her keys but couldn’t get traction because mom wouldn’t let her hunt for them. Mom had searched everywhere her neighbor wanted to look. It was a bust. (I’m planning to go up on the 16th and have let mom know I will find them if they are findable, but she cannot get grumpy with me while I look for them.)
I confess to writing to mom’s attorney letting her know mom is convinced the 25th is the magic day, despite my continued reminders that the state will let her know when the test is to take place. The attorney wrote back confirming the state has not made contact as of yet.
I arrived home yesterday mid-afternoon. By evening there was e-mail from mom in which she said she was allowed to drive in her neighborhood. I dove at the opening asking her where does the state say, in writing, she is allowed to drive. She wrote back assuring me in her most clipped language that the DMV (the acronym for the department of licensing of the state we lived in 35 years ago) told her she could drive around the neighborhood/subdivision roads that aren’t part of the county. I again asked her to show me in writing where the state told her this and to clarify it with her attorney, who I copied in the e-mail. It was an opening I couldn’t afford not to take. Mom invents her own realities. Her attorney, tho younger than me, has the moral authority to correct those realities. I think I’ll go turn the phones down now.