Mom Move 2022, Day 3

The Big Reveal. The huge undercurrent in getting my mom to memory care is my sister's fear of it. Not wanting to see it, be in it, deal with it, I imagine. Nobody wants their person to go to memory care when they can still tell you how they feel about it. But that's how this is going down. Mom's outstripped our (us kids', our beloved caregivers') ability to deal with her when she rages about wanting to see us or live elsewhere or whatever is bothering her. She needs to be in a more supportive environment with trained staff. It's time for the big guns.

So there was a lot of krieg und schreck about who would go in with mom to memory care on the day she becomes a resident. The discussions via email were long and drawn out. My biggest fear was having to deal with both mom and my sister, whose sensitivity to the situation was breaking out like hives. I wanted to just concentrate on the mama. I told our sister that if she wanted to take mom away for two days and just drop her off, that'd be fine. And that's what happened.

Let me pause on another topic, which is that we debated for a month about how to *tell* my mom. I had tried to break it to her and tell her about a new place. She got really mad about that, and told me that change was hard. I totally get that. Several plans later, my middle sister decided that she would tell her, but only the day before she dropped her off. This plan was agreed to by her and the caregiver. Hey, I didn't want to do it. I wanted to tell her the truth, which would be harsh. Anyhoo, the hammer did the deed and I am grateful.

On the day my mom moved in, our caregiver, my oldest sister, mrguy and I greeted my mom and my middle sister. We were met by staff, as well, and treated to lunch in the dining room downstairs. Considering the big deal that was transpiring, it went pretty well and mom was pretty even. "I see that most of the people here are younger than me," she said. "I've got news for you, mom, most people are younger than you," I replied. I liked my own joke so I'm writing it down. We went upstairs to memory care, and luckily nobody was taking off their pants in the hallway. Mom checked out her apartment, and started asking about men. 

And getting agitated and asking why she had to move and then it was ON!! The anger and stuff boiled over and she was getting pissed.

Mrguy, ever-helpful, said that we might find some men in the lobby. Which we did. We tried to point out men and meet people and be cheerful but nothing was working. Eventually our caregiver took mom to dinner, which was mildly unsuccessful, but my older sister had brought some food (genius!) that we could improvise. Everyone went home and mom checked out her closet ("too many clothes!!"). 

We watched the Tennis Channel and got in bed.