Some grandmothers act alike
By Sheila Donnelly/Austin Daily Herald

Thanksgiving Day I spent at my daughter Mary and her husband, Dave's second-floor apartment in South Minneapolis. She and Dave cooked dinner for 10 people. I contributed apple pie, stuffed mushrooms and homemade bread to the meal. My sister Joann drove my mother over from St. Anthony's Village to eat dinner with us. Joann lives nearest to mom and sees her almost everyday and she was having dinner with her husband's family.

Mom can't get around very well, as she had a stroke eight years ago. She shuffles along with a walker and when she is on a longer outing, we push her in a wheelchair. My son, Dan, and Joann slowly guided mom up the stairs to the apartment. After we had mom settled into a comfortable chair she said, "I'm never coming here again."

We all knew then that she was her old self and doing fine. I think she has said this about every place she has ever been. We have all learned to ignore her. She looked very pretty with her crown of white hair and my sister had her dressed in black crushed velvet. My daughters all look alike to mom so she doesn't know who is who anymore and she calls 10-year-old Timmy, Danny.

This doesn't bother them, as mom called me Geraldine, a sister of mine, for years. Another confusing issue for her was trying to figure out whom Danny's baby, Tommy, was.

"Whoever that baby's parents are, they have a cute, pleasant baby. Now who does he belong to?" She asked 10 times. Finally she said, "Well then I must be his great-grandmother."

We all laughed and answered, "Yes you are."

She remembers who her son-in-law, is and asked my husband several times during the day in a smug voice, "Well hello Tom, and how are you?"

Tom answered each time; "I am fine. I am keeping busy."

"Oh, good, who have you buried lately?" she asked brightly.

Before she moved to Minneapolis, mom lived in Albert Lea and most of her social life was spent going to funerals. This is what happens to many people her age that have lived in the same area all their lives.

As the day wore on, she complained and moaned that she should never have come and she was a terrible bother and she should just have been left where she lives. Around 4 p.m., she insisted I take her home. I told her she had to wait while I took a walk. When I returned from the walk she wanted to leave right away and I told her to have pie and coffee. She loves pie and coffee, so she settled down for this. Then, Tom and I drove her home. It is not easy getting her in and out of cars and she said, "Oh I should never go anywhere. I am just a bother."

Tom said, "And what fun is that never going anywhere? What would you do in your room?"

"Not a thing," answered mom.

"See, you need to get out," Tom said.

She was tired when we brought her to her room at the assisted living facility. She told the nurse and other caretakers that she'd had a great time. All day long she hadn't stopped complaining, but I don't think she knows that she does it.

The day after Thanksgiving, my daughter Theresa was visiting her friend. The grandmother of her friend was at the house and Theresa asked her how she was. The grandmother got a mournful look on her face, sighed and said, "Not good."

"Oh what's wrong?" asked Theresa.

The grandmother shook her face and looked pitiful. Behind the grandmother stood her friend's mother and she shook her head at Theresa to not believe her.

Theresa asked her friend if anything was really wrong with her grandmother and her friend said, "Oh did she tell you she wasn't doing well? She's fine. She complains all the time."

Theresa laughed and said, "Oh, just like my grandma."