The Woman She Was.

Rhona with her 1st grandchild, Tyler. 1989

The woman she was...

was feisty. 

On a friendship level... she had a very small circle of friends. She simply didn't put up with drama and/or bull from anyone. She wasn't a social butterfly. She refused to be part of the local gossip. For the most part she kept to herself and her select few.

Mom was true to her few. She was there for them at the drop of a hat if they needed her.

She was a workaholic. A massive workaholic.

As a single mom, she would pull whatever hours she needed to make the ends meet and to be able to have things she wanted or trips she wanted to take.

Growing up, she was always at work. We were always home alone. 

She wasn't the mom who attended school parties or events. She wasn't the mom who was there cheering us on during the sporting events we participated in.

She was at work. All the time.

When Tyler entered the world, she softened a little. No matter where she went, he always got a treat or toy when she returned. She taught him to love to shop and their shopping adventures together were UNREAL. He didn't want for anything.

When I say she work a lot..... she did. 

She was a supervisor for the postal service. She would cover for any supervisor when needed. 

She was rough and ran a tight ship!

I subbed on a rural route as a part time fill in, in the office where she was a supervisor. 

I'll never forget this incident.

It was early in the morning. We were casing up mail when all of the sudden you heard two people fussing with each other. It grew louder and louder. 

It was her and a male carrier.

He was a full time carrier and he had a calendar hanging in his mail cube of female models in swimsuits. They weren't one piece swimsuits. The images of models were in thongs showing their buttocks and small bikini tops with cleavage.

She was offended. Said she didn't need to look at half naked women.

Mom directed him to take it down. She said she shouldn't have to look at that when she came to talk to him about his route.

His response wasn't what she wanted to hear, so the match began between them. He stood his ground on the fact that it was his cubical and she didn't have to enter it to talk to him.

She was his superior. She sent him home.

He lost his battle and the calendar came down.

In my opinion, she was rude and nasty about it. I will never forget that day. It could have been approached in a much better fashion, not with a office of carriers trying to get their mail up, bags & trucks loaded, but who was I to say anything. I needed my job. It could have been handled behind closed doors, but it wasn't. In my opinion, it was done to set an example. To let everyone know she was the woman in charge and you will not mess with her.

Had I said anything, it would be double trouble for me. Trouble in the office and trouble at home.

So, I remained silent. 

To this day, I despise that day and her actions.

~bo

A CRAPPY KINDA DAY!

 

8/31/24

It was a quiet morning. I was able to sit with a cup of coffee and simply chill in the living room with Sammi Kay.

I enjoyed every sip of my 'Jamaican Me Crazy' coffee. 

I didn't want to move from the couch. It felt good to sit in silence and just pray and sip. Just me, my dog, my coffee and my Jesus.

I mustered the energy to move and put a roast in the crock pot. I do NOT like to cook (YET) and I now have learned that not having something for mom to eat makes me stress out more trying to figure out what to feed her when she's hungry.

Living alone was so easy. I rarely cooked.

Now, I'm trying to learn to plan - which I don't like (YET) but I'm trying.

I hear movement from moms room. I can tell she's getting up to use the bathroom. Then, I hear "dammit!' I head down the hall and ask what's wrong and she replies, "I'm pooping." All I could do was groan.

Sometimes, 'I'm pooping' isn't as bad as I think it will be. I was hoping for that type of 'I'm popping'....but I wasn't so lucky.

She left a trail.  It went from her room to the hall into the bathroom. She only had a gown on so it was free to escape her adult underwear overload. I wanted to cry.

I started cleaning her up first and explained she had to get in the shower. There was no choice. It was just too much. (She hates getting in the shower. It means she's wet and cold.)

At the time I wasn't laughing but as a caregiver all you can do it look back and laugh.

We have a shower bench for mom. She can't stand and step over the tub so the bench allows her to sit and scoot. But once in, I needed her to stand and bend over so I could spray that crap off.

I have THE BEST shower sprayer. Seriously.... the best! 

Our bathroom is small. When you put two plus size gals in there, there is simply no room to move. I ended up getting drenched in the process.

I explain to mom I need her to stand and turn around and hang on to the bench while I spray her down. There was just too much!! It had to be hosed off before I could even bathe her.

She's cleaned up and to bed she goes to get warm and rest. A regular shower kicks her booty. This was twice as long.

I give her a Imodium to help her loose issue.

Down the stairs I go to begin laundry. In this moment, I'm regretting the quiet time I took to sip my coffee. I should have been downstairs tackling all the laundry from urine the day before. Laundry seems to be non stop.

I hate laundry. I hate the steps to the basement where the washer and dryer are.

Maybe, 2 hours later, I hear her stir. I think she's simply getting up for the day.

NOOOPE. Accident #2. And it's worse.

Sammi Kay is a velcro dog and is always under my feet. I thought I had her blocked out of the hallway. Much to my dismay...she was walking through crap on the floor and tracking it. I flipped my shit. 

Insert after laughter.

I had to tell mom to sit still on the toilet while I clean up the dogs paws and all that she's tracked. Then...to the kennel she goes so I don't have a 2nd tracking mess from her.

A friend recently gave me a bag of old towels. Can I just say what a blessing those towels are on this day?!!

Bed stripped and remade. Floor cleaned and mopped. Mom still patiently waiting. She begins to cry when I tell her we have to get her back in the shower again. It's just too much to try any other way.

Shower #2 - complete.

Mom decides she wants to come in the living room after shower #2 and and watch tv and I say, "awesome" even though my heart and mind screams "No. go back to bed!" My back hurts and I just want to cry. So out to the backyard I go.

I don't and won't cry in front of my momma. She doesn't understand. I don't need her any more upset than she is.

I come in from outside and she's headed to the bathroom. Accident #3.

Sweet Jesus, give me strength!!!!!

Her pajama pants caught the majority of this load. Unfortunately, it didn't stop us from having shower #3.

My back is now screaming. It's not strong enough to do all this bending and twisting and carrying wet clothing. In this moment...I want a good stiff drink, but I've been sober for 23 years. Today I crave. Today has been a lot. 

A LOT!!!

I head back outside. I tell mom to stay inside because it's to far if she has another accident. (She loves our backyard and loves coming outside to watch Sammi Kay run and play). Honesty, I just needed to sit and cry. No more holding it in. I needed it to be free and flowing. So, I sat and bawled in my backyard realizing how lonely I am and how hard this is.

A friend sent me a message to say she saw my post and is praying. She encourages me to focus on 5 positive things. I have been practicing daily gratitude for about a year so I instantly pop these 5 things out:

1. Extremely hot water. 2. A washer and dryer in my home. 3. That’s she with me and not being abused. 4. That this is only a rough day and not every day. 5. That I have this time with her even though it’s not easy.

It's now 9:00pm and mom has gone to bed. I'm praying we won't have any incidents in the night.

Being a caregiver is hard. I think it's the hardest thing I've ever done. But this is what I'm learning.... these days, these crappy days, are few compared to the days there are no accidents. On these days, I might flip my shit because I have little to no help and it's overload when it happens ----- but it's just a bad day. It's not the entire journey. It's not every day....but MAN they are HARD and they STINK!

I realize I need to grieve. 

I've lost my complete freedom to come and go and do life, as I please. 

I've lost a mom who can't control her bladder or bowels in certain moments.

I share walk this journey with grace, love and joy. Even on the hard days.

~bo

WHAT THE FLIP?

What the flip?

How is that mattress like that? That bed was against the wall. How is this possible?

Where's my momma? We bought my momma a hospital bed that came with a very thin 4" mattress with little to no support. It kept her from getting a good nights sleep, which kept me from getting a good nights sleep. So, I ordered her a new mattress. A delightful 10 inch mattress that was medium to firm structure. I knew the medium to firm would be great for her back. I made sure it was twin XL because that’s what the bed was…..Twin XL. The mattress arrived in 2 days. Once it inflated to full size, it was heavy. I ordered twin XL but it was about 3 inches wider than the bed. I can make this work, no biggie…

so I thought. In inspecting the mattress, the bed and the wall, I didn't want to damage the mattress since it was wider, so, I took the security rail off the side of the bed next to the wall. I mean…. You can’t fall out of the bed with the side butted up against the wall, right? WRONG! Who knew the stupid bed would move on hardwood floors as she moved, even with the wheels in locked position.???!!!!! Because of the overlap, when she rolled over, it was apparently just enough to give a force that the bed shifted on the floor and out she flipped. I was making chili and heard an indescribable sound. There was no noise. Just a massive thump. I yelled, “What was that?” No response. I booked down the hall thinking she was asleep and Sammi Kay had knocked something over in my office. I was stunned to find her bed in the middle of her room and the mattress in an upside down position. Beneath the mattress was a crying moan and my heart sank. I climbed over the bed to be able to get to my momma. All I could do was hold the mattress and its weight off of her. With the position of the mattress, I couldn’t lift it. I called my son for help. He just happened to be off work. As we waited, she cried because she had to urinate but didn’t want to urinate on the floor. So I grabbed her house coat and shoved it between her legs and under her the best I could. And then I heard myself say, “ok. Pee!” …. And so she did.

I knew there was no holding that need to potty. So, I improvised! My son arrived. He was able to lift the mattress and get it back on the bed. As she lay in the floor we managed to move things enough that he could get to her and lift her up. We got her to the bathroom, cleaned her up and got her back in bed. I gave her some meds to help her relax. My son left. My momma has titanium rods and screws in her back. That was a hard fall and she landed on the rail I had removed and slid under her bed. All I could think of were the, “what ifs.” What if…. she fractured something landing on that metal rail. What if…. A screw broke. What if…. There was damage inside.

You see, she had fallen twice in the assisted living facility and they didn't event do an incident report. Nor did they put it in her chart. But they did record calling me about those falls.

Since those falls, she complained of her back and knees hurting. My thoughts wouldn’t stop.

I called the non emergency line of my city and requested EMS. I wanted to be safer than sorry and have her checked out. They loaded her up and off we went.

They dropped her off. Helped her off the stretcher and into a wheelchair.

She sat in that wheelchair for 10 hours. It was an extremely long day.

The sites you see in the ER!!!!

While we waited, this was the beginning of an X-rated scene beside us.

I took the pic so I could show the nurse and before they could get to him, it was full blown rated-X.

He was moved out of the ER to a room (Imagine that!)

(I can’t make this shit up).

We waited, waited and waited some more. They gave her morphine for her pain and ordered CTscans to check things out.

Her CTscans were done and we waited another 2 hours for results. Scans showed everything was in great condition. Praise God. No injuries. No damage.

Now, we have a baseline. Now, we know should things change.

~bo

(this incident occurred 8/29/24)

WHAT IS SHE THINKING?

 

Have you ever been in a room and someone is talking about you like you aren't there? You look over at them and just wonder if they realize what they're even doing?

Today is Aug 21, 2024.

Mom developed an infection on the side of her nose around the 9th. We went to urgent care on the 12th. As the Doctor was asking questions, mom couldn't really answer or explain, so I began to be her "voice." 

As I chatted with the Doctor, mom would look at me weird. Each time, I would think to myself, "What is she thinking?" I'd ask if she was ok and she would say yes.

We got meds and headed home.

The morning of the 15th her eye was worse. So we took a journey to the ER. {These were the instructions from urgent care}

Again, as nurses, interns and doctors asked questions, I was her voice. This is such a weird stage and place to be in. It's weird for me and it has to be weird for her.

What is she thinking?

I mean, she can talk. She just can't remember or doesn't know what/how to tell them when they ask questions.

The ER staff was great with her. They gave her new meds and determined she needed to see an eye specialist so an appt was made for Monday, Aug 19th. We were in the ER all day. It was such a long day.

By Monday her eye was looking much better but we headed to the specialist anyway.

It was determined she had a clogged tear duct and they flushed it with a syringe. For all you squimish people I wont post the video - but it was cool to watch.

The next day, Aug 20th, we were off to meet a new primary Doctor.

As we sat talking with the Dr., I kept reaching over and patting moms hand and asking if there was anything she wanted to say. She'd say, "no."

There was so much to cover.

• Medications and how long she had been on them.
• Past surgery dates
• Vaccinations and shots
• Sundowners symptoms
• Shaking hands
• PT/OT
• Her unwavering appetite

... and questions of things she could or couldn't do, get in/out of the shower on her own, bathe on her own, dress herself and/or prepare a meal for herself.

I wanted to cry. 

Not because I was upset, but because my heart hurt for my momma. I kept thinking to myself, 'WHAT IS SHE THINKING' as I sit here and answer questions saying all the things she is incapable of doing.

Answering the questions she is incapable of answering.

WHAT IS SHE THINKING?

She never said a word.

She just sat there. Blinking. Listening. Fidgeting with her hands.

OH MY HEART! JESUS HELP ME!

This disease is horrible.

Her dignity. Her pride. Her..."HER."

I knew by the time we got to the car, she wouldn't remember most of the conversation I was having with the doctor...but still. 

I remember. 

I remember for her and I know how it made me feel speaking about her in front of her.....like she wasn't even there.

But she was. 

Listening.

Listening to every single thing I said about her.

What is she thinking?

Is she thinking she is less than who she is?

Is she thinking she is unworthy?

Oh mom, you are so loved. Not just by me, but by many.

I hate this for you!

Oh my heart.

~bo

A Day of Sunshine!

Rhona & her Grandson & Great Grandchildren.
 Tyler & his 4 kiddos. 

On Saturday, August 17, we gathered as a family. It was my 59th birthday and it was the first gathering in our new home.

I was excited for the day, but worried how the day would go for my momma.

Would she be over stimulated?

Would she have an accident(s) and be embarrassed?

Would we all fit in our house?

The day itself couldn't have been any better. The weather was absolutely gorgeous! Mom slept til around noon, which was good for her and the family bounced in around 1:15-1:30 in the afternoon.

This was the first picture of the day. My heart was so full of joy.

To see her interacting with her great grandchildren warmed my soul.

So far she remembers the 2 oldest names: Truman and Zola. She struggles with Evie Jo's name and she can't remember Atlas's name at all. She calls him baby. {I'm sure he will baby all his life!}

To think that my momma lived in an assisted living place (5 hours from me) and rarely had visitors, breaks my heart. Though family was near, life just gets busy and people don't make time to visit.

My brother would visit her, but last year he moved to England.

My good friend, Melissa, would go visit her once a week and sometimes twice a week. She cleaned for her and helped her bathe. We will forever be grateful for the love Melissa has for mom.

I would try to go every couple months but many times that was hard, especially if anyone here was ill. I wouldn't chance taking that to my momma or any other individuals in the assisted living facility.

I cannot express how wonderful the day was with family.

My mom was her true self. Telling things from her childhood in "Rhona" fashion with no care on how she presented the wording. 

Example: she asked Truman and Zola if they'd ever seen a cows tit. 

Zola said, "What's a tit?"

Mom proceeded to tell her how her grandpa would ask her if she'd ever seen the hole in a cows tit, and mom would get down and look and he would spray her in the face with cows milk. 

My grands didn't understand this. The look on their faces were comical. But the look on their momma's face was even better!!!! {It was kinda like a cringe look. She knew someday the word tit was gonna flow from those tiny lips.}

The grands know that babies drink milk from their momma's boob, but they'd never heard the word "tit". I wonder when they will start calling boobs, tits. LOL.

The grands built houses out of empty moving boxes. They chased each other. The chased the dogs. They were constantly saying "G.G. watch this." And they would do a trick or a song or something silly.

Zola taught mom how to play Avocado, Avocado. Mom even did a little shimmy as she and Zola sang the song. 

Truman challenged her to a glove battle. Truman had no idea he was going to meet his match with his G.G. (G.G. is for Great Grandma) He thought she would be this nice sweet little old lady who would give in....NOT!!!! He met a ruthless player who doesn't give up. {Look at her smile!!!}

I've not see my momma laugh and smile and have so much fun in a very long time. She had a blast playing with the grands and I had joy watching her.

This is what I know.

She might be losing her memory, but somewhere still inside her is the bully. 

Though they had fun, as she played, at times she was mean. {hair pulling, pinching...etc} I'd have to say "We don't do those things." Her response was, "Well, I do!" And I'd have to say, "But, that's not being kind. We teach them to be kind to others." ...and she would roll her eyes. {MAN..is she good at this!}

Every day presents something new.

Some days are easy. Some days, hard. Some days I want to run away.

But this is our new normal and we will figure out the balance.

Is this easy? NO!

Would I change it now? NO!

One thing holds true.....

I can't do this without the Lord.

He has changed my heart towards my momma. I've carried bitterness and anger for so long. He's breaking it all away.

I will be strong and courageous and be the vessel HE wishes me to be.

~bo

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

The Maggard Family:
Kyle, Rhona, Bonita and Scot

Do you remember being in high school? That "crush" who you had your eye on? The puppy love that made your head swirl and took your breath away.

My momma married her high school sweetheart, Kyle Duane Maggard in 1964.

I entered the world screaming in 1965. My brother entered the world in 1968.

We lived across the street from my maternal grandparents. There was nothing like smelling that friend chicken every Sunday. That was my granny's delight. Fried chicken.

My grandmother was also a safe place.

I could make up so much up for childhood memories, but in honesty, I don't remember a lot. Don't ask why....because I don't know and I don't care to visit to past to find out. But I wont pretend and I wont make something up just to have a story. The journey is enough in and of itself.

This is what I kinda know/remember:

We lived across from my momma's parents. My daddy's parents lived down the street and around the corner.

We moved to Kent, Ohio when I was in the 5th grade. We moved away because of my daddy's job. A couple years later we went from Kent, to Penn Hills, Pennsylvania....again due to his job.

I don't remember my parents fighting but have been told they did. (Again, I don't remember much of my childhood.) When I was 11 or 12, they divorced. Daddy left and Scot and I stayed with mom in Penn Hills.

I will give my momma credit. She worked her butt off. She did what she needed to do to pay the bills. Daddy didn't help much.

One day, momma and I got into a huge fight. I was around 13 years old. Back then there was no such thing as "latch key kids."  We babysat ourselves. I was so mad at her. When she left for work, I packed me and my brother up and called my daddy to come get us. And he did. We left while she was at work.

I don't know the fight that must have transpired between her and daddy about him picking us up. I'm sure I caught an earful as well and I'm thankful I don't remember. What I do know, as a mother, I inflicted some severe pain on this woman by packing up and leaving while she was at work. 

We lived with daddy for a year or so before momma moved back to our home town. We went back to living with her when she moved back. Again, we lived next to her parents.

My momma worked the postal service, where she was a supervisor for many years. To say she was a workaholic is an understatement. If she wasn't working at work, she was in our back yard tending to a gorgeous flower bed. (In fact, today, she asked if we could plant some flowers out back.) She loves her flowers.

Her flower bed wasn't a normal flower bed. It was a planned masterpiece. 

There was never a time, from spring to early fall, that there weren't flowers, of all colors, blooming. Unlike today, back then, cell phones weren't a thing and you didn't take pictures of everything. I had a small 110 film camera and I took pictures, but somewhere to this day those undeveloped films are hiding in a box.

She was a hard-ass. She was full of pride and she worked her ass off. She didn't play around. Not as a mother and not as a supervisor. 

She was a product of a product.

~bo

FRAZZLED

As this journey happens, I will be bouncing back and forth between present and past. I want to share about my momma in the past but don’t want to lose sight of what's happening in the present.

She’s been with me 16 days. A lot has transpired in those 16 days.

We moved her from:

✨a town she’s lived in most of her life.

✨an assisted living facility she’s lived at for 2 years To a place where she knows 8 people and isn’t sure of the names of a few of those because they’re little kids.

At first, she thought she was on vacation. She kept asking how long she was staying and really got confused when I’d say forever.

You see… when we packed her belongs up, we had her sit outside or in the hallway so she couldn’t see all that we got rid of. We knew it’d be a battle of “ I want that “ and we didn’t have time for that.

Was it fair to her? Maybe. Maybe not. We knew in a matter of time she wouldn’t remember those items anyway.

Ha! At one point we placed a purse with fringe, in the hallway, free to any passersby. As soon as she saw that purse it was , “I want that. That’s my favorite purse!” Tonight, that purse was unpacked in our new home. 🙃

Out of those fifteen days, two mornings she woke in a frazzled state (in the apartment) and didn’t know where she was. One morning wasn’t too bad. That morning, once she saw me, she calmed. It broke my heart.

The next time she woke frazzled shattered my heart. I absolutely hate this for her.

That morning was a super busy morning for me. I was on a call and I heard her. She was panting. That panic type pant. I excused myself from the call and I met her in the hallway and walked her to the living room. Where I sat facing her and continuously talking to her.

My momma loves Elvis and Queen. So, I put on some Queen music and said, “I love this band!” and I started singing. Loudly! She smiled. She sat there for a few minutes and then started singing with me.

It took quite a while before she realized where she was. I believe the music took her to a different place and that allowed her panic to settle and her mind to come back to knowing she was safe with me.

I hate this for her. It's heartbreaking to watch unfold.

I also hate Queen but, if it soothes her soul and calms her down I will blast that stero every damn day!