I'm back home now....after a few days in Chicago to assess my mother's mental health status and my parent's overall well-being.
There is good news and there is bad news.
The good news is....my worse fears....that my mom was in some type of mental health crisis..... because she refused to talk to me on the phone for months now.....were not true.
The bad news is......she's not talking to me because she has somewhat disowned me and my children.....and I believe she is in the first stage of dementia.....experiencing delusions, paranoia and some memory loss.
The first evening I was there....I was genuinely surprised at how perky and talkative and together my mom was ....with one exception...... she kept calling me "Crissy" ...which is my daughter's name. When I corrected her....she just laughed and said.... I looked so young she was confusing me with my daughter.
Happy she seemed so well.....I planned a visit the next morning to the Chicago Art Institute and the special Edward Hopper exhibition.
I didn't bring any toiletries .....so I was on my hands and knees in her bathroom the next morning looking for shampoo.... when I noticed a picture frame in the cabinet.
I pulled it out....and found it was my middle son's graduation picture. I could see another frame....this time with a picture of my daughter in it. I was sure these pics had been in the living room.....but ......my mom is always rearranging her nick knacks....so I put them back.
I was heading out the door.....in a rush to catch the train .....when I realized I had left my phone on my bed....rushing down the hallway.....to my room....I looked up and realized there was a huge bulky new mirror at the end of the hallway.....where my high school graduation picture had hung.....my picture was gone.
And then something registered...and I walked back into their family room......and noticed all the pictures of my children....which hung on one wall ....had been replaced by pictures of.... dogs. My big Weimeramer, my Springer Spaniel....and three pictures of the mixed cockapoo....I had given my parents.
I stepped into the living room....more pictures removed. The only pictures that remained of me and my children....were baby pictures. We were erased after our toddler years.
I was stunned.....I got in the car with my dad.......finally I asked him.......Dad....why are my pics gone? and all the pics of the kids?
He sheepishly looked at me... and said....your mother had me move them.
Why?
He shrugged.
I boarded the train and felt like iron bars were on my heart. By the time I got inside the museum....my body was so heavy....I could barely walk....so I sat on a marble bench and texted my hub. I wasn't sure .....what hurt more...my mother disowning me and the kids for some irrational reason.....or my father....not protecting/defending us.
My text was probably alarming.....because my hub called me immediately.... as soon as I said the word... hello... it was like a dam bursting.....I sobbed....Iblithered....I coated my iPhone interface with snot.....it was not pretty.
One of the guards started hovering nearby so I cut the call short...I thought he might ask me to leave. Worse .....when I looked up....I realized I was crying at the foot of a gigantic bronze Greek god....some naked dude with his little limp penis....pointing at me.
I found a new bench.....without naked men and penises ....and sat for a long time thinking about my mom.....let's just say Augustan Burroughs isn't the only person who could write memoirs.....about dysfunctional parents....and I had been down this road in some form before.....and now...sadly.....even my children could not escape.
I came to some conclusions....steadied myself.....and headed off to the Hopper exhibition....which was stunning...amazing...and yes...I can testify....art can save you...by filling your heart and head with universals that go beyond your own small life. I realized by the time I left....I wasn't the only person....to face this type of crisis with parents.
The next day I had lunch with a friend....who gave me some terrific advice....concerning boundaries and making decisions about how much of yourself you will give to care for your parents.....and suggested some resources.
I listened to my mom carefully over the next couple days.....her insistence that "house guests" had stolen her jewelry....her memory lapses...
I talked to my dad....who is in denial....and simply agrees with whatever strange ideas my mom has.... so as not to "get her upset."
I laid in bed at night reading articles on dementia.
Today....at the airport and on my flight....I decided on a list of things to do in the short term.....things I can find out via the Internet.....and if my dad authorizes it....I can call her doctor and ask for an geriatric mental evaluation...since we need a baseline. I colored a day on my calender next week.....to work on some things. Since I'm an only child....this stuff ain't going to disappear.
I realize the train wreck can happen....any day.....but at least at this point ....there are a few options.... a few switches to pull....I'm not sure there is anything else to do.
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