Irene and Kenny go to Cycle Sunday
Mom and Dad love to go to Joe's Diner. Mom has a high comfort level there. She knows Johanne, and Adrienne, and both Nick and James. Dad can have her go sit while he talks to people, telling men to remove their hats, telling Nick how to utilize his time better when cooking, flirting with Johanne and Adrienne, and schooling James on all aspects of the short order process. Mom sits and makes faces at him while Adrienne brings their coffees over.
Mom has either a short stack or 3 pieces of french toast (you already know about the cutlery concerns now happening). Dad gets eggs and potatoes and white toast. He only gets meat when someone else is paying (ham slice or sausage). He wants his coffee to be steaming. When I sit with them, I share the carafe that I get, and that's not hot enough for Dad.
Next to Joe's is Stratford and Surf Beverages, a liquor store owned by a close family friend. He sponsors Cycle Sundays...the Diner is open till 1 (usually closed on Sundays), and there are raffles to support some local charities. I try to bring in a vendor with some artwork for sale as well. Once a month, we chill at the Diner, with friends, meet new folks. It's a fun time for all. Mom got a ride from Bob at the event in June. She loves motorcycles.
So, there are a bunch of us already at the Diner Sunday. Mom and Dad come in, Mom comes down the aisle, sits at a booth near our group. Dad, of course, must stop and talk to everyone on the way down the aisle. He makes comments about not being able to sit with us (I've told him he cannot always sit with us, especially when we are with friends, and there isn't room at the table. He is allowed to sit adjacent, or near, however). Mom tells him to sit down, she's hungry.
Dad loves our friends. Mom sometimes remembers them with a little hinting...the ones I've had since I was in elementary school are easy for her to remember, the others - well, not so much. Dad flirts with the women, talks what he thinks is "shop" to the guys. Well, Sunday, he was in rare form.
He mentioned, fairly loudly, that he has an idea for a strip club (oh yes, he did) that featured women over the age of 70. Us fifty somethings were just too hot and young for men his age. They didn't do it for him. Then he went into detail about what the club would feature!!! Mom started tossing things at him - her dirty napkin, then she began hitting him with her fanny pack (remember Laugh In, and Ruth Buzzi with her pocketbook?).
Some people laughed...I, though, kept thinking that when they first came to live with us, the number 1 rule should have been reinforced! The number 1 rule is not to embarrass the MAMA. In this case, however, it would be not to embarrass the KID!
Now, he kept calling himself, and other men his age, dirty old men...but he really isn't one! He was a bartender and bar cook for nearly 20 years (part time, after working a 45-50 hour week at the Phone Company!). Dad really can entertain others, and that is what he did on Sunday. Mom laughed like hell, so did others. He also likes to make her laugh, even though he ignores her most of the time.
I always thought I took more after Mom than Dad, but these close observations of Dad over the past year or so have really pointed out how much like him I am. Others have mentioned this, I poohpoohed them. We are the product of our environments, yes, but also the product of our parents, whether we are embarrassed by them or not, whether we like what they do or not, whether we believe it or not.
Fortunately for me and the family, we've been given an opportunity to find these things out before death takes Mom and Dad away. While dementia is doing its best to steal away Mom, we are still winning, and laughing, while we cry.
Mom has either a short stack or 3 pieces of french toast (you already know about the cutlery concerns now happening). Dad gets eggs and potatoes and white toast. He only gets meat when someone else is paying (ham slice or sausage). He wants his coffee to be steaming. When I sit with them, I share the carafe that I get, and that's not hot enough for Dad.
Next to Joe's is Stratford and Surf Beverages, a liquor store owned by a close family friend. He sponsors Cycle Sundays...the Diner is open till 1 (usually closed on Sundays), and there are raffles to support some local charities. I try to bring in a vendor with some artwork for sale as well. Once a month, we chill at the Diner, with friends, meet new folks. It's a fun time for all. Mom got a ride from Bob at the event in June. She loves motorcycles.
So, there are a bunch of us already at the Diner Sunday. Mom and Dad come in, Mom comes down the aisle, sits at a booth near our group. Dad, of course, must stop and talk to everyone on the way down the aisle. He makes comments about not being able to sit with us (I've told him he cannot always sit with us, especially when we are with friends, and there isn't room at the table. He is allowed to sit adjacent, or near, however). Mom tells him to sit down, she's hungry.
Dad loves our friends. Mom sometimes remembers them with a little hinting...the ones I've had since I was in elementary school are easy for her to remember, the others - well, not so much. Dad flirts with the women, talks what he thinks is "shop" to the guys. Well, Sunday, he was in rare form.
He mentioned, fairly loudly, that he has an idea for a strip club (oh yes, he did) that featured women over the age of 70. Us fifty somethings were just too hot and young for men his age. They didn't do it for him. Then he went into detail about what the club would feature!!! Mom started tossing things at him - her dirty napkin, then she began hitting him with her fanny pack (remember Laugh In, and Ruth Buzzi with her pocketbook?).
Some people laughed...I, though, kept thinking that when they first came to live with us, the number 1 rule should have been reinforced! The number 1 rule is not to embarrass the MAMA. In this case, however, it would be not to embarrass the KID!
Now, he kept calling himself, and other men his age, dirty old men...but he really isn't one! He was a bartender and bar cook for nearly 20 years (part time, after working a 45-50 hour week at the Phone Company!). Dad really can entertain others, and that is what he did on Sunday. Mom laughed like hell, so did others. He also likes to make her laugh, even though he ignores her most of the time.
I always thought I took more after Mom than Dad, but these close observations of Dad over the past year or so have really pointed out how much like him I am. Others have mentioned this, I poohpoohed them. We are the product of our environments, yes, but also the product of our parents, whether we are embarrassed by them or not, whether we like what they do or not, whether we believe it or not.
Fortunately for me and the family, we've been given an opportunity to find these things out before death takes Mom and Dad away. While dementia is doing its best to steal away Mom, we are still winning, and laughing, while we cry.
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