Shopping

Mom and Dad's official wedding picture - August 1947


Mom in front of her apartment - May 2010

I may have mentioned that my Mother's idea of fun is shopping. She is a browser. She loves looking at clothes, shoes...anything associated with her appearance.

Yesterday we went bra shopping. Mom needed bras that clasped in the front. She can no longer reach around and snap a bra together from the back. So there we were at Sears looking for bras. I knew this was going to be another of our "needle in a haystack' shopping expeditions. Mom always seems to want and need something that is difficult to find.

I worked with the sales clerk for awhile to narrow down the area where the bras could be found and finally located a couple in various cup sizes. Mom was looking for a particular size, but she has lost weight, so may need something smaller.

I picked out a few for her to try on and wheeled her into the dressing room. I sat there watching as she tried them on. I am always amazed at her 90 year old body. I wonder if I will look the same should I have the good fortune to be 90. The surprising information that Mom shared today was that she had always disliked her breasts. I understand in a flash that Mom has struggled with self image and self esteem her entire life.

It became clear very quickly, that Mom was having trouble hooking any bra. Her hands are arthritic and weak. I helped her a little, but told her she had to pick something she could snap together on her own. I am not there when she dresses, so it is important that we find something that she can manage on her own. I convinced her to try a camisole, but she was not thrilled with that look at all. She wanted the traditional bra.

I went back and forth bringing new bras for her to try. I had a flashback to when I was 13. Mom and I were at the old Bon Marche downtown shopping for my first bras. Now the roles are reversed. I am the one bringing in the bras and helping her try them on. Once she got going it went pretty well...but we always go through a price discussion that is long and difficult. She is a true shopper and always looks for a good deal. Luckily, we found one bra that she did like that was in her price range.

Next stop, panties. I moved her over to the wall of panties and took a few minutes to step away while she looked at the various styles and colors. I find that shopping with Mom is really emotionally taxing. She is both demanding and extremely needy. I have to take brief breaks just to regain my composure. The hardest part is her extreme deafness.

I have to shout to be heard and this both exhausts and irritates me. I wish she would wear her hearing aids and put fresh batteries in them. Perhaps they no longer really help her. I know she is in no position financially to buy new hearing aids. I know there is a vanity factor with her. She has always hated her ears and has no desire to bring attention to them with hearing aids. So here again, I see that she has issues of self image and self hatred.

After shopping, we cruise the mall a little so Mom can look in the store windows. She says she needs to eat and wants a hamburger. I know there is no McDonalds at the mall, so I get her back to the car and drive to the one that is near her apartment.

On the way home she asked if Pamela and I can drop by to fix her TV tonight. I tell her that Pamela will not come to her apartment considering that Mom has been so racist about our new baby being black. She has been better about the baby lately...wanting to buy a gift...but we can't trust her to be positive around us and the baby. I get angrier and angrier in the car. I told Mom that she never takes responsibility for her bad behavior. I explain to her that she can't be so verbally abusive to me and Pamela and expect us just to ignore it.

I can feel my blood pressure skyrocketing as I drive along. I manage to get us some lunch and get Mom back to her apartment. I set out her food and begin to boil the noodles for the dinners I am preparing for her for the next few days. I am trying to bring over home cooked food at least once or twice a week to give her a break from frozen meals.

So many conflicting emotions happen during my visits to Mom. I get tired of talking about the same things all the time. I get tired of trying to explain the same issues again and again. She is currently obsessed with when her lease is up. I have read and re-read her lease, explained it to her in great detail...re-assured her that everything is fine.

Mom always goes back to her typical complaint. She hates Seattle. She wants to go back to Arizona. In her heart of hearts she knows this will never be possible. I have told her over and over again that she can't be on her own. We have this discussion several times a week. I am so frustrated that she can't just make the best of it here.

I have told her that I will not help her move. This has been her way of dealing with her own unhappiness for years. Moving ...moving again. It is her idea of finding a new start....but she never has understood that the grass is never greener in a new place...it is still just grass. I watched her uproot my Dad at least 8 times in 8years when they first retired to Arizona. Dad finally bought a condo and they managed to stay there for 18 years before she forced him to sell it. Now she would like nothing more than to be living in that condo.

She is never going to be happy. She is never going to be satisfied with her life. It is both sad and frustrating to watch her make everything and everyone around her suffer with her unhappiness.

Mom said that I had changed while we were eating lunch yesterday. Her inference was that the changes were not good changes. I told her the big change was that I was not putting up with her verbal abuse any more. I don't just give in to her moods and tantrums. I tell her there are limitations on what I can and can't do for her in any given situation.

It feels like I am dealing with a willful child most of the time...so I have to put up boundaries and make them stick. This is the only way I know how to protect my own sanity. I have had to set up a structure that protects me, protects Pamela and Haven, and keeps Mom safe. My brother did this years ago and now I understand why.

Helping Mom is easy task. I often feel pulled in too many directions. Writing is the one outlet that seems to help me sort through all the emotions and conflict.