Much behind the piano, the second biggest improvement in our home has been me getting motivated enough to reclaim mom’s garden for her, and now myself. When I lived here without mom a few years ago (and I was living with a partner at the time), I managed to get the garden half decent, growing a few things and not being a total mess. But last Spring I started heavier work on it, and managed to get more than motivated for mom (as was the reason to start) but learned to enjoy it in my own right.
Then came building up more ‘blockades’ to keep the cats from leaving — making it into a catio –and they now have a place to go outside, eat cat grass and even catch the odd mouse (we have a small patio area, ground level– but there have been two mice that ended up as injured toys, played with until death by our lovely furballs). Having that space outside has made weather that looks like it could turn at any moment not so dangerous to go out in. Just get mom outside and be ready to change it quickly should rain or major wind come along. This continues to this year, but little moments like the one described below are both harrowing and proof of the correctness of concept.
July 25, 2017
Recently I managed to ease my young (almost five now, suddenly it seems) cat into enjoying the deck / patio /garden area without trying to climb out (after catproofing the fence). This has made for a beautiful afternoon in these summer days, with mom sitting outside next to Mollie on her portable “Mollie tree” perch, while I do garden work and Baisol walks about being both confident and cautious, a perfect combination for me.
So this evening it’s much the same, I’m watering plants and chatting old school over the fence with two of the neighbours, and this evolved to 20 feet outside the gate. I then noticed Mollie coming through the open gate and I lurched forward to turn her back around, I don’t want to play “find the cat in the underbrush’ tonight.
I then turned to mom while I was closing the gate, and mom wasn’t there. I was running around trying to figure out if I was supposed to panic while searching all over. I found mom at the other end of her apartment, having walked in over dangerous concrete, stepped over the door frame, negotiated the various things of the living room, passed her piano and then neatly placed her empty dishes on the dining table. Then she made her way down the hall to the washroom. That’s startlingly cool, because she can often get lost and I would have automatically escorted her. Never mind when I burst open into the washroom I got a stern “Do you mind??” She also had done all of that sans her walker, which is very encouraging for me in terms of her strength.
Absolutely all of that went off without a hitch, all good. I rant often about how most of us “normies” look at people with her challenges as without skills, and deny them their own abilities while they are right there, trying to use them. Mom just put me in my place through all of that.
The biggest bummer is that she would never go along with the idea that walking in from the patio to the washroom was cause for even notice, never mind a celebration. She got a hug and kiss anyway, but I’ll do that brag for her here. Feeling humbled.