In an effort to preserve ...

... our sanity, we came up with a plan for Mamaw to go to adult daycare twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. The place is absolutely beautiful - brand new building situated beside a pretty lake, all the people working there seem to love the company of old folks the way I love the company of animals, and they serve delicious meals catered by one of the nicer restaurants in Louisville.

What could be more ideal?

Well, it'd be a lot more ideal if, say, Mamaw didn't pitch a blue fit about having to go there, having to be there, and then having to get on the van to come back home. In their history, they've only had to 'discontinue' one person, a large man who could bully his way past the staff and kept forcing his way off the grounds. Mamaw is tiny, but they're considering the possibility that they might not be quite up to handling her decidedly powerful personality. Not good.

When I got home from work yesterday evening, Doll was at the end of her rope from dealing with the aftermath of Mamaw's agitation after returning from daycare, so I told Doll to have a break and let me take over.

Mamaw was in her favorite chair in the living room looking very stressed out. I got myself a glass of coke and sat on the hearth beside her chair.

She looked very alarmed and said, "Who are you?"

"It's Pam. How was your day?"

"Oh, I don't know! I'm just so worried, I can't think straight!"

So I asked her what there was to worry about and she said, "Just everything!"

In my most soothing tones, I said, "You know, my mom used to worry a whole lot. She would think up things to worry about, and it was such a waste. Sometimes, when my daddy would go to the grocery store she would sit at the window all stressed out, watching for his car to turn the corner, just sure something horrible was going to happen to him and we'd never see him again."

Mamaw asked, "And what happened?"

Good progress, I thought. I said, "Well, he always came home. So, see? Mom went through all that stress and anxiousness and worry for absolutely nothing."

Mamaw looked down at her hands and refolded the Kleenex that's perpetually there. She thought for a few seconds then looked back up at me with a wry smile on her face and said, "Or maybe it was her worrying that kept him safe."

Crap. I had nothin'.


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