I was certainly grateful to spend my first weekend home doing chores. After spending the last month of weekends up at camp working in the kitchen and managing “the camp”, I was so glad to work on my own living quarters finally.

As I started laundry, I decided that the garage was my project. I didn’t ask for help right away since I could move everything easily. Grandma has a hard time getting into the jam cupboard because my scooter motorcycle usually sits there, in front of it. Now that we are down one scooter motorcycle (Awesome Hubby’s was stolen two weeks ago), I can move mine out of her way. What I saw under the cupboard on the shelf was lots of unneeded junk that got tossed.

Well, I was on a roll and did ask Awesome Hubby to move all the folding chairs that we won’t use to the back shed so my baking supplies can go on that shelf. Oooh, it felt so good to get things rearranged. I even swept several times and then vacuumed the floor. The work table has been cleared and cleaned off so that projects can be done again without knocking off something. Everything in its place. LivingRoom Son needs to work on his corner now with his piles of clothes and workout stuff. We’ve finally gotten some cooler weather so the transition to winter clothes is at hand – we all have clothes stored away for the season since the house is very small.

I was hoping for kudos from Grandma, but they weren’t there for me. Probably this was something I really should’ve taken care of all along. She came out once to check on what I was doing. After the garage was done, I went in and vacuumed the wood floors throughout the house. So many runaway crumbs and rubber bands had not been disturbed during the month of my weekend absences. While Awesome Hubby mopped the main areas, I “special” cleaned the floor in the kitchen because of the grime. The oven is now sparkling clean too, joining the newly cleaned microwave in being ready for the next meals. So much just doesn’t get done during the week and Grandma just doesn’t notice anymore.

The results of cleaning was depression. Grandma is still dealing with her limitations, and not always successfully. It has become evident that her way of venting her frustration with her “situation” is to just tell us “don’t bother watering, I want it to go black” or “I am going to take out those rose bushes anyway, they’re too old” or “Don’t bother watering the lawn, I only water it once a week in the summer anyway.” Just before we moved in, I caught her spraying the Lily-of-the-Valley plants with weed killer; she said there were too many of them. Some survived and they are filling in two years later. So now, our response is just to commiserate with her and not state the obvious – that we will continue to care for the gardens.

I am working on a plan for when we and all of the family in town will be leaving for our son’s wedding in Arizona in November. It will be for three days on a weekend. I have a connection with a home care service; a former co-worker’s son started this business after he dealt with caring for his grandmother. I made the appointment after letting Grandma know that we would all be going to the wedding and that she would need someone to check in on her. That seemed to go well. I don’t expect the interview to go so well. Grandma is so independent and stoic that she’s going to insist that she can pretty much take care of herself. My uncle is very supportive and will pay for the care that she needs while we are gone.

While considering what other options we may be able to consider, I thought of Grandma’s friend who is 90, still lives in her home alone and drives (sparingly). These two are close friends from church and have done quilting together. I have been mulling the idea of the friend coming for the weekend, staying overnight in our room. Together, they may enjoy doing the cooking. I would still have the home care come and check on them but at least the house wouldn’t be so quiet. Grandma gets depressed when she eats more than one meal a day alone. I’ve called the friend and asked for a Starbucks date to pitch the idea–couldn’t hurt. Depending on her response, maybe she could talk Grandma into it so it could be their idea.

So, I am hoping some pieces of this “wedding” puzzle start coming together–it’s getting late. Maybe it will just all fall into place…