I had quite the adventure yesterday...

I went into Brighton, to get my hair cut, and decided to drive home a different way to miss the traffic.

I thought I knew what street/road I was on, when in actuality, I was on one that went south-west out of town, around Brighton Lake. I wasn't lost--a country girl knows her directions, but for quite a few miles, I didn't exactly know where I was.

Then--I saw a road and I recognized the name--a gravel road--Bauer Road, I turned north on it and recognized I was near where I had gone years ago to my grand daughter's cross country track meet.

In and out of holes and wet low places and finally, up ahead, I could see the traffic light on the road I originally thought I was on. Just before I got to the traffic light, I hit a pot hole.
KABANG!!!  I expected that rear tire to go flat at any moment.

Please, Dear God, get me home safely!!

Finally home and it only took me 45 minutes, instead of the normal 15, but..................I did miss the city traffic and I got to see a lot of beautiful mansions out by the lake!!!
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I recently visited with Pearl and Merle.  It's hard to "visit".  Pearl doesn't have much to say--she still manages to get dressed in the morning, but stays in her chair all day.  When I got there, she had a couple of pair of slacks sitting by her chair and she was in her underpants.  Apparently, because it takes her such a long time to walk to the bathroom, she has "accidents" and had already gone through two pair of slacks.  I don't know why she doesn't wear Depends.

Merle's voice is very weak now and the Parkinson's has advanced to the point where his head bobs up and down all the time.  I don't know whether he is agreeing with what I say or not.  He recently was in hospital for a hydrocele.

I had no idea what that was, so he explained--in minute' detail I might add.  It is a fluid filled sac in the scrotum.  It has to be drained--with a needle.  He didn't like it.

Oh my!
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Monday I got a letter from an old friend--one I have known since I was born--they were neighbors of ours.

Now, I have always known that this girl/woman was a "story teller" as my Daddy used to call her.  I never told any of my other friends and in high school and beyond, I could see them fascinated by her stories and the fantastic life she had once led.

The last couple of years, at our monthly luncheons, I have observed that the other women aren't quite in the believing mode, as her stories have become so far fetched as to be totally unbelievable.

She has claimed that she has tried to attend our luncheons for the last three months, but we were never at the restaurant we told her we'd be at.  She has now claimed to me, that last month, she arrived, but none of us were there and when she went back to her car, she saw us all leaving town in our cars.

She also informed me that she tried to go to a mutual friend's funeral, but she couldn't find the church.  That she stopped at the Township offices and two other churches, but none of those people had ever heard of that church.  I wonder if she was even in the right town.

So--I sent a couple of e-mails off to Beth and another friend Ruth Ann.  Ruth Ann was the one who answered her cell phone, on her way to the funeral, and specifically told her where the church was and how to get there.

Beth, who is friends with this woman's step-son, said that they have become aware that the woman is in dementia and also paranoia.  The woman had told someone that Beth's husband had given someone a ride home, but that he had to stop to run errands and so that person didn't get home for nine hours!  Also that Beth's husband had called her and told her not to call Beth anymore.  Not true.

In her letter to me, the woman said that her husband has now bought a registered, thorough-bred race horse and she's glad because it gives him "chores" to do and keeps him out of the house, and that she couldn't make it to "Jones" funeral either.  Who in the heck is Jones?

I don't even know how to answer or respond to her letter.  I don't know to react to her if I see her in person.  Just agree with her stories?  What wild tale will she tell next?  Could it be a hurtful tale about one of us that she tells another one of us?

It's an uncomfortable situation and not one I know how to deal with.

It's difficult because I feel like, since I've known her and her family for all my life, I should "stand up" for her.  I should show her more affection.  I should nod at every word that comes out of her deluded mind.

I read her letter three times and was so confused, I thought perhaps it was ME that wasn't understanding what she was talking about.  Perhaps she is the clear minded one and I am the one losing it?

This getting old is turning into a not so fun time!
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Dar has twin great grand babies--boys.  She has not seen them and probably won't, as they belong to her son and grandchildren that she kicked out of her house two years ago.  She doesn't even know where they live.  When they left her house, they had no where to go and were living in their van.  Apparently the boy is the father of the twins.

Now this makes Dar's father a great, great grandpa.  She keeps telling everyone that her father is 100 years old.  I don't say anything, but when I did their genealogy, he was born in 1924.  Well--94....100, what's the difference, right?

She doesn't come over very often anymore.  She quit smoking "real" cigarettes, so now she doesn't need a place to escape too and puff away.  
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I got a phone call from daughter Pam yesterday.  She is still living with Jen and family in New Jersey.  I know she is a big help to them.  Pam basically takes care of the two younger kids.  She takes them to and from school and their after school activities, cleans up their rooms and does their laundry.  The two older kids do their own cleaning and laundry.

Pam just found out that she is two months shy of work hours to apply for disability.  One case worker told her to go back to work for two months and then re-apply.  Pammie explained that she can't work.  That is why she is applying for disability!

She has shown "them" all the MRI and x-rays of her back--she is missing a disc in her spine, but it all hinges on hours worked.

So, now she is applying for SSI.  

Lots of people talk about how easy it is to get on Welfare.  I have not found that to be true and neither has Pammie.  I guess we are the wrong nationality or color or don't have under aged kids or something.

So, she is out there and her farmhouse remains closed up.  I worry about that.  Everyone knows she doesn't live there anymore.  She may return home to find squatters living there.  Squatters--like her Mom.  LOL
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Today I have to run up to Walmart to pick up a prescription.  Stop and drop off my rent check at the park office here.  Get to the print shop to get the pedigrees printed out on long paper and clean up this house.  I don't understand how one person, living alone, can let a house get so cluttered!!!

If the weather holds, tomorrow I need to get outside and start the fall, garden clean-up.  I love doing that, but I sure dread how my back is going to feel.

Oh well--I live to fight another day!!!