Who Cares What Nansi Thinks?

I've had friends say "My mother and I have switched places.... when did THAT happen?"

I remember exactly when it happened, when I became the mother and my mother became the child... It wasn't the day my father died, or even the day we moved her in with us.

One day I was driving my oldest daughter to cheer leading practice. I was pregnant with my son. We drove by a car accident. About a quarter mile down the road, it hit me, "That looked like Mom's car!" I turned around and sure enough, there stood my mom with a police officer. Her car was a wrangled mess.

Thankfully Mom was unhurt. Up until that day, my mother and I had pretty much lived separate lives under one roof. Mom paid her own bills. She had her own auto insurance. She had her own car. She just resided with my family and me.

After we dealt with the tow truck and the police officer, I loaded Mom into the front seat of the car and headed home. It was the first time (but not the last) that I saw that wild, disconnected look in my mother's eyes. He car had been totaled. It was a miracle that she wasn't hurt, and the accident had been deemed "her fault". But Mom was elated. She was euphoric. "This is EXACTLY what we needed, Nans. We don't spend enough time together. Now I won't be able to go anywhere and we can just be together all the time!"

Clearly she was in shock.

On the way home, she kept prattling on about how she didn't want to drive anymore, and how now *I* was responsible for *her*. I was numb.

It had been about seven years since my dad's death at that time. It was the first time I felt the weight of exactly what I had taken on when I'd promised him on his death bed that I would take care of Mom for the rest of her life.

OK... I felt the weight, but it was WAY lighter than the reality would prove to be.

I could almost feel the *snap* in the universe as mother became child and child became mother.

The regression from that day forward was gradual. Even though Mom had stopped driving, I managed to get her into her own apartment shortly after my son was born. I think I was terrified of having her in my home when the day came that she would need round-the-clock care. That was a happy accident. I've since learned that it is almost impossible to place an aging adult who lives with family.

Here we are at today. The nursing home thinks Mom is ready to "graduate" to assisted living. If everything works out, Mom will be in a more independent part of the nursing home. She'd still share a room, but she'd be in a section where there are no nurses or nurse's aides. In Mom's world that translates to one simple thing: No call bell.

If she goes to assisted living, she wouldn't be able to hit a button if she drops her pen, or if she can't reach her water, etc. No one will bring her water. She'll be expected to get her own water. She won't get breakfast in bed, and no one will help her get dressed or shower every day. I personally can't see her being able to do it, but we'll see.

We had a mother/child role reversal moment last week. Mom has decided that she wants an electronic book reader. I think she'd do really well with one. She'd be able to enlarge the print so she could read easily. They're light weight, so her hands wouldn't hurt when she holds the book. But I know how my mother lives. She'd have something spilled into it before a month went by. If not that, she'd lose it. She loses her remote all the time. She'd lose her cell phone when she had it. She loses money like crazy. How can I justify spending hundreds of dollars on a devise that mother will either lose, break or toss in a pile and never use. Trust me, one of those three things will happen. Maybe she'll forget about it and I won't have a decision to make. Ha! Maybe!

Mom fixates. She will nag and nudge and plead and prod until she gets the item that is so vital. Then I'll find it, unopened, unused and forgotten. And I clean her room, nag her to get organized, determine what she can and cannot have, etc. etc. etc.

And the beat goes on....