anger

I met Sharon for the first time last Friday. She’s working at the newly opened produce stand owned by her son-in-law. In the course of our, maybe ten minute conversation, I found we have a lot in common. We’re about the same age, and now that she’s working there, we both have part-time, post retirement jobs. Although I’ve known her son-in-law for years, I had never seen her before. Like a lot of older folks around here, she isolated herself, without being aware of the situation. Her job at the stand has opened her eyes to what she’s been missing. She admitted that she had been angry most of the time.

My father died in September of 2000. Since then, my mother has kept to herself in their four bedroom, two and a half bath house. Her routine, which she’s shared in numerous notes, consists of waking at 5:30 or 6, driving to a local mall and walking twice around the interior, driving home for a small breakfast, playing a few hands of solitaire, running errands, stopping at McDonald’s for a small burger (which she cut in half to have for dinner), running more errands, more solitaire, watching the news, while she ate the rest of the burger, then watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, off to bed at 8, where she read mysteries, then awoke at 3 or so to read, again for a few hours.

Every time I’ve visited, we’ve gotten into some sort of altercation. I was aware of the fact that she was angry. I just didn’t know why. She refused to move from the house she’s live in since 1958, into a retirement home or some sort of assisted living facility. I could tell, when I’d arrive that she was glad to see me, but that only lasted for a day or two, after which she seemed to be jealous of any visiting I did with other family and friends. She’s deaf, so it’s difficult to communicate, particularly if she’s angry, as she tunes me out. Given she was angry most of the time, visiting was frustrating.

There was a crisis in April. There had been a leak in the upstairs bathroom, which had gone undetected, as Mum never goes up there. The collecting water had finally broken through the kitchen ceiling. The good thing is that the crisis precipitated a general discussion of Mum’s situation. My brothers contracted with “Senior Helpers” in May, having a young woman come in every day to do some cooking, cleaning, driving, and general socializing. Even though I’m over 500 miles away, I know having the helper there has helped, because I haven’t gotten any more plaintive descriptions of Mum's days.

I know how she feels. I’ve lived alone and generally favor that situation. But I have made sure that I keep in touch with friends and plan periodic events in my home. I work at the bank six days a week, if only for a few hours a day, expressly to keep in contact with my neighbors. Sharon has taken the same step. I hope I will continue to keep myself involved with family, friends, and neighbors. It’s difficult to keep a “mad” going, if you’re interacting with people who have no idea why you’re angry.