We often don't realize how compromised our loved one's reasoning has become. They are masters at masking their deficiencies. The ability of the human brain to compensate and conceal is amazing.
After attending the wedding of her Sunday School Teacher's son, the MIL (mother-in-law) came home with the usual trinkets associated with modern weddings. An announcement, a tube of bubbles (why is rice taboo now?) and a sweet to eat. The next evening, while helping with something in her apartment, the MIL said, "I didn't like the wine they gave at that wedding." My daughter and I looked at each other, and then at the MIL. I asked, "What wine didn't you like?" The MIL gestured to the now-empty tube of bubbles, "That wine--it didn't taste good at all."
These same Sunday School classmates, for the most part, don't realize how poor her reasoning had become. As her memories of days long gone-by strengthen, her memories of last year and yesterday are lost. What are the signs? When do we need to become concerned? Once we know, how do we convince our loved ones to hand over control so we can help them remain independent? How do we deal with jobs, kids, grandkids, and our parents, who have now become as children--for whom every day is a new day? Heck, sometimes every ten minutes is a new day.
I will add resources, and add photos as I master this art of blogging. Today, our inaugural day, it is about wedding wine vs. bubbles, dignity vs. shame, patience of a saint vs. loving-human-being-doing-the-best-they-can-but-God-help-me-I-don't-know-how-much-more-I-can-take. Welcome to Cracked Pots--where the vessels are still valuable but don't function the way they used to.
After attending the wedding of her Sunday School Teacher's son, the MIL (mother-in-law) came home with the usual trinkets associated with modern weddings. An announcement, a tube of bubbles (why is rice taboo now?) and a sweet to eat. The next evening, while helping with something in her apartment, the MIL said, "I didn't like the wine they gave at that wedding." My daughter and I looked at each other, and then at the MIL. I asked, "What wine didn't you like?" The MIL gestured to the now-empty tube of bubbles, "That wine--it didn't taste good at all."
These same Sunday School classmates, for the most part, don't realize how poor her reasoning had become. As her memories of days long gone-by strengthen, her memories of last year and yesterday are lost. What are the signs? When do we need to become concerned? Once we know, how do we convince our loved ones to hand over control so we can help them remain independent? How do we deal with jobs, kids, grandkids, and our parents, who have now become as children--for whom every day is a new day? Heck, sometimes every ten minutes is a new day.
I will add resources, and add photos as I master this art of blogging. Today, our inaugural day, it is about wedding wine vs. bubbles, dignity vs. shame, patience of a saint vs. loving-human-being-doing-the-best-they-can-but-God-help-me-I-don't-know-how-much-more-I-can-take. Welcome to Cracked Pots--where the vessels are still valuable but don't function the way they used to.
Haha oooooh, grandma.
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