Where is the Mother in my Mother?

I haven't blogged much about how it has been since my 89 year old mother moved in with J and I this last February. Most of the times I've thought that it's gone better than could be expected: she's driving herself around, she's figured out where certain things are (i.e., the senior center, the hospital, Trader Joe's, and, of course, the Mall), and she pretty much keeps to herself.

The latter one is great in many ways. Really it is. But I sometimes think the latter point ("she pretty much keeps to herself") is a bit of a problem for me.

Let me explain.

J gets up at about 8:30am and has to be to work by 9:00am. He's never on time, so he probably gets there about 9:15am each day. Mom is an early riser, but I don't see a sign of her til J is long gone. She gets up, eats alone, and then gets all dressed "to the 9's" to go to the senior center lunch, where for $2, she gets lunch and the attention of Roy, Alex, and Bill, the latter of which cannot ever remember her name and instead calls her "Florence Nighingale".

She's gone til 1ish and then sometimes spends the rest of her day shopping at Target or some new place that she's discovered on one of her "drive abouts".

In the evening she hides in her bedroom reading, or in her TV room watching a movie on "mute" (she can't hear for beans). Lest you think that my 89 year old mother is a frail elderly type, I need to let you know that she's still capable of cutting grass with a push mower, painting the inside of a house, or sewing or knitting a quilt in her spare time. She's in incredible health for her age.

In all, she really has no obligations at all save for washing the dinner dishes each night. She doesn't choose to interact with us, but when we choose to not interact with her she sulks. Hides in her room. Says childlish things like, "Well I didn't want to go anyways" (she said this one just yesterday with respect to the picnic).

She's here in our house but she's not really a part of our household. She's like a long term visitor. She doesn't feel like "family", but in a way she never has felt that way. (For those of you just tuning in, I'm adopted, adopted by my mother's father's sister, or my great aunt, and I never really bonded to her the way I did to my adopted dad. Long story for another day.)

So this last week I had surgery and mom found time to come and visit me at the hospital on both days. That was great. I felt lucky that I had both her and J there with me. I was in the Oncology ward for some reason, and there were a lot of patients there without family or visitors. I'm glad I wasn't one of them. One night there was a lady across the hall from me that was so sick. She was moaning and vomiting all night long. I thought she was going to die and I was going to have to hear her last moan and breath. It was so depressing.

When I was at the hospital they had me fill out a form that, I was under the impression, would be discussed with my s/o and my family. On the form it asked me to state whether I thought I'd need help with certain things around the house, going to the bathroom, dressing myself, etc., and I was to write down and describe which things I needed help with. Along a similar vein, I was told that I was not to drive a car for two weeks.

So flash forward to today. A full week since surgery. I still can't drive, right? So this morning mom gets all gussied up to go to the Senior Center for lunch. I reminded her that I had three appointments today, and that I could not drive myself. And instead of being the accomodating mom I've known for most of my adult life, she instead said to me, "Don't you think I have things that I might want to do?" I was blown away. It's not like seeing the OB/GYN for a UTI test, doing labwork at Health Line, and dropping off documents at the Title Company are frivilous. Not anywhere as frivilous as a $2 luncheon that she can attend any day of the week. She took particular pains in getting dressed quite nicely today...maybe one of her three men was there today and caring for me spoiled things?

But that wasn't it. Then she said, "It would be nice if you gave me a day's notice that you need me to take you somewhere." Me: "Mom, Dr. G told you and J last week that I was going to be dependant on you two for getting around for two weeks. I am sorry if I didn't tell you last night that I had things I needed to get done today, but I am pretty sure I told you this."

Mom's hearing is near to non-existant and last week she broke her hearing aide and had to mail it down to SoCal to get fixed...so very little of what I say to her is getting through anyways. I find that I sometimes repeat myself 7 or 8 times to try to get a point across to her and even after that many attempts I often fail miserably.

Mom doesn't let me know when she "gets it" or "hears what I'm saying". She gives me a blank stare with a screwed up scowl on her face as though it's my fault that her hearing is gone. That scowl makes me feel attacked, and then immediately defensive.

So I'm nearly sure I told her this. But even if I didn't. Why can't my mom say to me, "L, do you have anywhere that you need to go to today?" Why can't she ask? Be my mother? Be mothering for chrissake. But the crux of what is irking me today is that I feel that my mom doesn't know, or doesn't care, that I need her right now. Even though we don't have that deep bonding that I see between other mothers and daughters, deep down inside I feel she should know I am fragile right now, and she should care enough to talk to me to see if, in fact, I do need her.