Saturday, July 31, 2010

All Ears!

Now you've probably known someone who can hear good, but they lack in being able to see. My mother is one of them.

Years ago when I was still at home, this talent came to fruition. Our family dogs seemed to like our neighbors house better than ours. Well, because of mother being such a caring and conscientious person back in those days, she would become frantic if our dogs strayed over to the house next door. She and my dad had a habit of sitting on our front porch each night after supper. Mother would listen to see if the neighbors were complaining because our dogs had wondered away. One night in particular, I overheard my daddy comment that her hearing was so good that she could hear a "mouse fart."

My husband and I have learned that by the time you get midway up mother's driveway, you roll your windows up and stop talking. One Saturday morning, I had come to bring mother's medicine. I didn't want to stay long and I knew if my husband went in with me that we'd never get away. As we drove up, forgetting that my window was down, I said in a medium low voice, "just stay in the car, I'll be right back." Well, I had also forgotten about mother's sonic hearing. She rose from her chair on the porch and said, "who did you tell to stay in the car, Bobby?" I tried my best to get out of that one, but no such thing.

When mother first began experiencing dementia, I suppose me and others were in denial. She was still my mother and all my life, I had shared secrets with her. I remember a certain event had happened in my life and I wanted to tell her about it since she had always been my best confidant. I didn't want anyone else to know so I made her promise not to tell. As always, she concurred. I began telling mother every detail, feeling comforted that I had someone to share my intimate secrets with, my mother. It wasn't long till I had come back to mother's for a visit. We were sitting in the living room sharing when mother said to me, "If I tell you this, you can't dare tell anyone." Thinking that I was about to hear some juicy information, I promised not to tell. Mother began telling me the exact story that I had told her the week prior and had made her promise not to tell. I think this was the beginning of the end for me. I realized at that moment, that things would never be the same.

Another thing that I've noticed about mother since her dementia, is that if you tell her that someone is getting married or divorced, she can remember it. Not learning my lesson, I have shared with her several times about someone's impending marriage or divorce, thinking, she will never remember to tell this one and just as soon as you get her out in public or around someone you would never want to know certain information, she would become a stored data base. She couldn't tell you who her grandchildren married but she can remember that someone she hardly knew was soon to be wed or getting a divorce!

One of the first noises that mother began hearing due to dementia was the sound of someone tapping with a metal knife on her back door. She would tell us over and over again that "those neighbor boys were coming down here trying to scare me last night!"

One night she told of being awakened by her doorbell ringing. Of course this made the entire family uneasy because all of us have experienced the hair raising event of someone ringing the doorbell in the middle of the night and we had no way of knowing if this was a real.

Not long after that she told of someone who had come into her house and knocked on her bedroom door. She pretended to be asleep as they made their way inside. As she raised up to see who had come in, there were five young boys standing at the foot of her bed. She told that one of the boys saw that she was a good person and told the others not to hurt her and they left. Mother didn't seem to be fearful of her hallucinations, only bewildered or a little upset that these boys thought it was alright for them to come into her room without permission.

Thank you God, for watching over our good and faithful mother.

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