JB, Julie, Elaine
Elaine has such depths of patience and love, and the most infectious beautiful laugh. The way she says "Good morning, precious one" to my mother fills my heart with gratitude - that I could be lucky enough to have her helping us. That she could speak so kindly even when mom is being impossible.
The aftermath of surgery, anesthesia, painkillers, antibiotics make perfectly healthy people a little cuckoo. With dementia? All bets are off. We have an amplified kind of cuckoo at the moment, but I swear Julie and Elaine seem to find ever deeper reserves to deal with a not very nice mom. We all have to keep reminding ourselves that this is not really HER.
Friday was Elaine's birthday. It took us four tries to cajole mom out of her funk and get her to raise a little toast with us. Finally she said: "Well, I enjoy working with you, and I know sometimes it might not be very easy for you." Just like that, and then she went right back into ignoring everything but the four poems she was scribbling on, cutting, re-cutting, scribbling, editing, folding and hiding them away in her red bag.
Happy Birthday Elaine, precious one, we treasure you!