Last night I cooked a beef lasagna. We didn’t eat until around 8pm. I was bringing my mom over and stopped at the grocery store for some tomato paste.
When I came out, mom had “an accident”. If it were my daughter as an infant, I would have called it a “blow out”. If you’re a parent, you’ll know what I mean by “blow out”. Suffice it to say I made seat cleaning a priority.
With the daughter, stuff like this was expected and was just one of those things. Plus we knew she would outgrow it. With my mom, it made me sad. A proud woman, once capable of doing anything she wanted, is now not even always able to control her own body.
I can remember my grandmother going through this when she was in her late 90s. I also remember my mom getting upset with her mom. I never understood that. Mom would be in tears because she was so upset and her mom would be in tears because she so upset and embarrassed.
I can not get upset at mom. I can’t think of any reason to get upset. Like I said earlier, it just made me sad.
So, I took her home and she showered–that was the easiest path to getting cleaned up.
And then we came back over and everyone kept me company while I made the lasagna–starting about an hour later than I had planned.
I made a lot of lasagna (two 9 inch by 13 inch dishes). plus a Caesar salad, rolls and green beans. It must have been good. There was four of us and we ate well. Tonight, my wife cooked some egg plant for dinner. Our daughter had finished off the lasagna….”Dad, I didn’t eat it all tonight. I had some this morning and I had some for lunch too. Oh and I had some when I got home from school.”
She is sixteen and a competitive swimmer. My mom, when I told her, laughed. She said that when I was in high school and running cross country, or swimming, no food around the house was safe. Mom went on to say that one morning she cooked a pound of bacon, a dozen egg ham and cheese omelet and a skillet of “baked” apples. She said it was for the whole family, but that I misunderstood and the rest of the family ended up eating french toast.
Helping mom shower and cleaning a car seat is nothing in comparison to hearing mom laugh as she tells stories of my high school days. The laughter and stories are absolutely priceless.