Friday, November 18, 2011

Target

Ever feel like you have a target on you? A laser beam of intense heat searing right into the center of your being? It's how I felt last evening. After spending a full day at a work seminar on accountability (theme: you own it whether it succeeds or fails), fighting traffic to get home and then spending a stressful hour at hospice saying precious goodbye to a dear friend, I took my mother shopping.

What you may need to understand is that even before my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, her world was all about her. She would wake up most days with a laundry list full of places, tasks and things that all revolved around her. Seldom did she think of how she might interface or serve someone or something outside of her narcissistic world.

Tonight was no different. It was all about her, and the fact that she had no makeup. When I asked specifically what she needed, she replied that she needed everything. What does "everything" mean, I asked. She simply raised the tone of her voice and shouted EVERYTHING!

So, off to shop we went - our destination Target. But, before we could even leave the house, she was back upstairs to her apartment to brush her teeth, then on the road we had to stop at the bank. Once back in the car she thought she had lost a glove, which turned into a temper tantrum of pulling things out of her purse and throwing them to the floor. The drive from our house to Target is only six miles. Tonight it felt like one thousand.

Arriving at Target and trying to be the good daughter, I circled around the parking lot as to drop her off in front of the door. This evening I could do nothing right - shouts of "Why are you going this way!" left me deaf in my right ear. Finally arriving a short distance from Target's entrance, she jumped out of the car and slammed the passenger door - just like a spoiled twelve year old. I took a deep breath and found a place to park in the lot.

Before going into the store, I chatted a few minutes with a dear friend. Linda always calms me and listens to my tales. It is here that I suggest that you find a few girlfriends to chat with at such times. They will save your sanity.

Before my guilt set in, I went into the store to be sure that Mother was safe. She was happily shopping, sniffing and sizing up all the products in the makeup aisles. I decided since she was doing so well, I'd check my favorite aisles - papers and scrap booking. After several minutes of my own scratch and sniff, I headed to the front of the store only to be bombarded once again with an angry response. "Where have you been! I've been waiting at least ten minutes!" Under my breath I breathed the words, "Guess it's your turn to wait."

Waking up this morning, I didn't think I would spend the evening as I did - both of us with targets on our backs - Mother reeling with the deadly shrapnel of Alzheimer's and me suffering from the searing effects of a very targeted laser beam.

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