This is not meant to berate or belittle my mother, I have loved her dearly all my life, but the woman I have loved has changed over the years.

My mother was the quintessential 60’s house wife. My dad had a busy, important job with the airlines and she was supposed to be a top cook, hostess, housekeeper and mother. I cannot imagine doing all she did. Perhaps because she had so little control over so much of her life, she was a little obsessive about her food and meals. If you went out to a meal with my mother between say 1961 through 2012, you were in for an event. She would not like where she was seated. Too cold, too drafty, too something, you were probably going to be asked to change seats with her. Before anyone could order, she had to know what they planned to eat. And no matter what she ordered, whatever you ordered would be what she wanted.

After all the food came, something would not be cooked to my mother’s specifications. While we waited with our food, hers was returned to the kitchen. I remember one trip to Hawaii where each morning her eggs would go back to the kitchen as not done enough. On vacation day four, my father had it! He took the boiled egg to the head waiter. He told them to go cook it like a hockey puck! That worked!

The second issue that has played into almost every family event since Amber’s birth over 30 years ago, was that my mother had a bad stomach. Schedule a christening, a big night out, Christmas dinner with friends and mom would be in her room vomiting with what we dubbed ” special occasion flu”. I will never understand it.

Forget Mexican, Italian, Indian or any spicy food, mom could not manage it. The amount of antacids, stomach drugs, and medical care were astounding. And rarely was there a night when more than just milk and crackers were all she could manage. One Christmas Eve, I found her vomiting in bathroom. I thought it was the latest special occasion flu. Except there was blood everywhere. I thought she would die on Christmas Eve. She had a bleeding ulcers that let her spend the holidays getting blood transfusions.

So what’s my point? Today as a treat I took a McDonalds milk shake to her. Since she has moved into the center, she has not been sick to her stomach once. Not one Tums has made it’s way down her throat. She excitedly tried to decide if she wanted a tuna or ham sandwich, neither of which she would have eaten before. Like ever!

It is nice to see her happy to try most anything and be excited about it as well. I have relatives that would not recognize my mom eating what she is now. I guess this is a HUGE plus to her life with dementia. It has effected her personality making her calmer, gentler and accepting. While I miss so many things about my old mom, the one that would have remembered my sister and dad. I am thrilled with this little lady that told me just today that her cranberry juice was the best thing ever, well maybe. That Quaker Oats cereal bar was outstanding as well.

You have taken so much from dear momma, Mr. Dementia, but I am grateful her stomach doesn’t churn with anxiety related issues. Not a sign of her old ulcers. I am happy that in a small town, she finds the food outstanding. I will take this little piece of happiness in the midst of the darkness.

Thanks for riding along! Bruno with his face full of stitches is feeling better. Mick walked across the paddock on a hoof that was still sensitive but way better. Even the tiny kitty is seemingly, finally on the mend. Pixie is off to Pine Hill to be looked at tomorrow. I hope they love her like we do (and she leaves in their trailer as their new horse). Please continue to keep us in your prayers.

momma showing off her new shoes and drinking a Boost (says it is the best drink ever!)