I explained to Mom the pressure I live with every day of every week of the year of her wanting to go for a drive every day of every week of the year, and how tired I am of feeling that pressure. “Every time I leave the house, you look sad and disappointed,” I said. “And every time I don’t take you with me to run an errand, you look sad and disappointed. And you get upset with me every time you have a letter to mail and I don’t drive you right away to Help-U-Mail or the post office.” I explained how her 89-year-old friend LaWynn has someone come every day just to talk, or to play games, or to take her for a drive or to run an errand, or to make her lunch, or to change a lightbulb, or…. “I don’t need some stranger to come and play games with me,” she huffed. “I’m very happy with my blanket and my needlepoint and my word search puzzles—I don’t need someone to come and play games with me. I can take care of myself!” No. She can’t. Today I called five companion care companies to compare their abilities and rates. I have consulted my siblings and have their support. The reality is that within 30 seconds of meeting her care companion, Mom will adore her and anxiously await her next visit. She will love playing Rummikub and Boggle and Scrabble. She will love being driven around the neighborhoods. She will love her tuna sandwiches. She will love her letters being safely and immediately mailed. She will love not waiting a week or a month for a lightbulb to be changed. She will love love love telling a stranger all about growing up in rural Magna before it became an endless ocean of subdivisions and strip malls, and about her English and French and Swedish and Italian and Danish ancestors. She will love the hugs. We’re doing this.

(Image by Vilius Kukanauskas from Pixabay.)