Day 85 > SATURDAY 16th JANUARY
Another lateish start, but I need more supplies so walk the couple of miles down to the supermarket again, which isn’t a huge chore as it’s lovely & sunny, but walk back through the centre of Columbia rather than via the old town & discover the market’s on today. No issue with social distancing here, no sir-eee – & many stalls with all sorts available & very well-attended. Not sure these Americans on the street have got a firm grasp on what’s heading their way & all over their news, but I for one am glad to have had a few days off of watching any news whatsoever. You know, it feels lighter & brighter already, despite the sadness of leaving Mum at Deweyland.
I pass a lovely morning out & then I get an Uber to the airport to collect a hire car; I’ve chosen a cheap compact car on a cheap comparison site as I’m haemorrhaging money & can forsake my love of fast cars – life has greater priorities eh.
Well, just imagine my surprise if you will, at discovering the girl on the el cheapo Dollar car hire desk – who received my testimony at visiting my Mum here to help out a bit – had allocated me a Dodge Charger. Not any ole Dodge Charger though, but a full-fat V8 Daytona model. The one with the best part of 400bhp – the one with launch control. The one with free tyres . . .
Oh I felt blessed. I could run to the extra cost of the 5.7 litre Hemi fuel bill & it brought a smile to my face & heart. Talk about feeling loved. It’s things like this that confirm my amazing relationship with God, as He knows deep down I would have loved a yank muscle car to play with despite choosing the ‘sensible’ option . . .
I headed to Dion & Gina’s – loudly & fairly quickly! – & spent a good hour with them chatting about all & my impending departure. Great to see them & so good to have it confirmed that they see the positive changes in Mum since I’ve been here too.
Then the big one.
I drove into Mum & Bob’s at around 6.00pm. A loud burbling bright red Charger wasn’t exactly going to be a stealth visit, & sure enough Bob was standing by the kitchen door when I got out.
However it was Mum who opened the door & greeted me warmly outside. We hugged. Once inside I explained to both that I was concerned for their safety – especially Mum’s – so had stayed at a local Airbnb for a few days to give them some space to readjust back to normality before popping in to see them to see how they were really doing on their own.
How were they doing?
Well, Bob had a red wine & Mum had a fully charged pint glass full of beer.
Oh.
Oh my.
That didn’t take long did it? I kept quiet, & we continued to chat, with them both telling me they hadn’t been out today, but both were looking very smart in lovely red tops – it struck me unusual as Bob had a penchant for stained old grey sweatshirts, so to see him in his Christmas Day best red jumper stood out a bit.
Realistically the house needed Hoovering & there was still dust everywhere, but they both looked relatively well, were chatty & the smell of dinner was in the air.
Mixed feelings.
Clearly they couldn’t go for long without a drink. Bob had gone & bought booze within three days of me leaving & was ensuring Mum could have a drink – likely encouraging her to have a drink so he wasn’t drinking alone eh. It didn’t sit well with me, not well at all. Three days. Good grief. I know I know I know it wasn’t a surprise – as it was always on the cards – but to see it in front of you, & it to be magnified by the fact Bob didn’t ‘usually’ drink wine & Mum had a whole pint glass full, not just a little can’s worth . . .
I mentioned to them both that it didn’t take long to get booze back in the house, & Bob said he liked a drink from time-to-time. However, now wasn’t the time to raise the fact that he’d promised Mum that he was going to give up, twice, so I asked him how his assessment at alcohol counselling went?
Well, again, for the second time in a few paragraphs, just imagine my surprise at what I found; Bob told me he spent the first 30 minutes discussing insurance & payment terms, & by the time the actual assessment started he informed his assessor that he was unwilling to leave his wife in the waiting room any longer, so he’d leave it up to her to decide if she wanted him to continue with their services.
Sigh.
This is his wife who he claims has dementia – although he communicates & treats her as if she has no memory issues – & he has completely side-stepped the helping hand arranged for his alcohol dependence & passed the buck to her.
In addition to the alcohol, although Mum was clearly delighted to see me, she seemed down & fearful of her future, as she acknowledged she cannot care for the house anymore, which saddens her because she used to be so active but cannot cope with the grounds or housework now; to quote her words: ‘I cannot see me ending my days here.’ I appreciate my departure may have affected her overall mood – temporarily – but under the joy of seeing me there is unhappiness.
I ask about the Kindred at Home weekly visit with the speech/cognitive therapist to engage Mum’s brain – but this hasn’t been followed up. Nothing has been done. No home help. No housework by the looks of it. Only a trip to the booze shop . . .
I visited one time out of the blue, & they’re both drinking & Mum is ‘down’. Oh my. I’m gutted, but not surprised. I really want to take Bob out of the equation, & visualise dropping him to the floor in a heap & leaving him in the woods whilst taking Mum back to the UK, but am dragged back to reality with the acknowledgement that Mum wants to live her life like this; it’s her life & not mine. I must accept this. But oh boy it’s hard on the heart . . .
I only stay for an hour or so, but arrange to see them tomorrow afternoon for dinner & offer to take them out for lunch on Monday, as I’m leaving on Tuesday & due to Bob’s appointment to discuss his new hip issues I suspect I won’t be able to see them before my flight leaves.
I drive back to the Airbnb very sombrely – I’m sad.
I sleep very poorly, before eventually accepting it’s not my call & dropping down & giving all to Jesus within & allowing Him to perform His will, rather than for me to take over . . .
