Babu Update (and a bit of an update on me;)

Happy December everyone!  I have been away from the blog and the entire transcribing project for a while, but it has never been far from my mind, for two reasons.  I’ll get to those later.

First, Babu is fine.  To elaborate further, she’s developed eczema over her whole body which we have a hard time trying to exterminate, yet extermination is an absolute must because the itching drives her crazy and she doesn’t get what it is and thinks that “I almost lost my hands…”  So we chase patches of scaly skin around her body and try to slather on enough cream and medicine to make her comfortable.

She also forgot who I was about a week ago.  It was only for a moment but, suddenly, all these signs I’m constantly on the look out for appeared.  No more chiding myself for living in the negative and ruining the good times by waiting for a rain of footwear.  Suddenly it was here.  Babu is going to start forgetting important things and people.  I told my husband about it and after we agreed it was to be expected he said:  “Well at least if she can remember the people that take care of her!”  It looks like we might not have that choice.

Nothing like that has happened since.  This might have simply been a small glitch in the main frame, just a black cat repeating, and as of now I truly think we will be okay for a while.  That doesn’t stop me from worrying that it’ll all go down hill the moment I turn my head.  Knowing and worrying are two different things.

So this is where we are.  We observe her and communicate and deflect her worries the best we can.  We keep a look out for things we don’t want to see and constantly adjust.  She needs a little more from us every day.  We dial that in.

This brings me to the first reason I have had this neglected project on my mind.  It’s temporary.  I could probably work on this project for the rest of my life, but it’s not the same with out the step of sharing these with her.  I can only do that while she is physically and mentally here.  I have written plenty of times before about what this time spent with Babu means and some days I look at her and feel the clock ticking loudly.  Some days I sit back and say, “Damn girl!  Almost 99?  You look good!”  I constantly wonder about the time line.  When will this torture end and the torture of mourning begin?

I’m letting that sink in.

I think that’s the most honest I’ve been and I feel every care taker of an elderly person feels that way.  It’s torture because you want to cherish every moment and that can be exhausting.  It’s torture because you hate to see them tired and in pain.  It’s torture because your life is on hold, too.  There is clearly a part of it that is about me.  Adam and I are self aware enough to know that there are things we are looking forward to in our “next life,” travel, less responsibility, easy sleep, sleeping in the same bed, going to parties with our friends together with out having to petition congress to grant us coverage for the night, relief from having to constantly be focused, being able to both hold a full time job and take our careers where ever we want them to go.

Mostly, we are looking forward to not dealing with constantly being in crisis, in fear, in heart break and questioning our own judgement calls and their consequences.

We also know we are simply not going to know what to do with ourselves.  We are not only not going to know how to handle our grief, but we are also not going to know the structure of our lives, our purpose.

I don’t like knowing there are big problems looming ahead of us and being able to do absolutely nothing to prepare for it.

It feels good to write this.  I’ve held back this dam, letting it leak out bit by bit but tip toeing around it.  I have a paranoia of what I put out here, judgement from those who don’t understand, somehow retribution if the wrong person read it?

But it’s the truth.  Some times I wish this were over.  There is never a day I wish this but moments.  They flit in and out on days when she’s suffering.  They flit in and out on days when I’m sick of scheduling every moment of my life with other complicated lives whenever I just need to leave the house and get something done.  It’s there on the days where unsympathetic people add their calloused drama to our bubble of care.  There are moments I salivate over the open road, the RV, the life where I make choices about my own moments for me.  I’m human.

Those momentary thoughts squeeze in among long moments of gratitude, appreciation, pride, and most of all love.  I’m satisfied in my choice to be a part of this.  I am proud of my man who chose to step up and never had any choice in how deeply he cared.


So, the update for her is that she is wonderful and she is also aging.  The update for me is that I’m in a processing and reflective mood.  It’s not a bad mood.  I just have been writing fiction full time for Nanowrimo and it feels good to write about myself and my family, which is everything right now.  I write to learn, to understand, and to move forward.  Thanks for letting me let it all out.


P.S.  I can’t wait to post more about 1936 and about Babu’s thoughts on it all!  Coming soon!


9 Comments Add yours

  1. I have missed your posts-glad to see this, I was getting so concerned.Happy December.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I was thinking of you too! Sorry to concern you! We are back at it.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. joanzumwalt says:

    I can empathize with your situation. When my dear mother died last year just shy of 97, we alternated wanting to hold on to her longer and hoping she would go as she had wanted for a long time. Lucky for us, she remembered all her loved ones to the end, though her short term memory and grasp on reality were shaky. You should be proud of your devotion to Babu and not ashamed of occasionally wanting to be free of the responsibility.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I appreciate this community and people like you. Your loving and understanding support is the reason I would ever ever publish something like this. Thank you!!


  3. barbwit says:

    Having watched my sister care for my mother, I have total sympathy for you and your husband (Su had no family nearby to help). I still feel deep sadness that my mother finally died in a care home not a hospital, so her brain didn’t go to science, as she had hoped. Funny what hurts you most, isn’t it?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It is crazy what niggles at us. That is sad and amazing of her to have wanted that. She sounds amazing. We’ve talked about this before but I’m so sorry for your loss. Thank you as always for your understanding.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Your openness and honesty is so refreshing and beautiful ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  5. PalHachi~ says:

    Lovely blog and definitely nice to be able to transcribe and have your Babu with you to add thoughts to the past. Having had to help take care of grandparents who both had Alzheimer’s it seeing that part of them disappear little by little is definitely difficult, but glad that you have the opportunity now before it’s too late.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so very much!


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