Paper Table Cloths

Mom felt like pizza tonight. It came with this little plastic piece that keeps the box from squishing the cheese. Why did I snap a pic it? 

When I was younger, we were just as poor as we are now (give or take inflation). I wanted a dollhouse, like every other little girl, but we couldn't afford one. We made due with what we had; an old cardboard 4-drawer dresser without the drawers became my 4-story apartment complex, and these plastic things became tables. I even made table cloths from paper and taped them around the plastic. I had that makeshift dollhouse for years. 

I wanted to post this to remind myself of who my mom once was. She loved me, with everything she had. She did her best to give my brother and I everything we wanted (and we did get everything we needed and most of what we wanted). She had a huge heart, was creative and sweet, and I thought she was superwoman until I was ten years old. It's important to remember the sweet times. Not just to honor them - which is a good reason anyway - but also to cope with the crap dished out these days. Mom isn't who she used to be. I said this a few days ago, and I believe it more now than ever; It is a testament to how awesome of a person my mother was that I continue to put up with the monster she has become. 

I made an appointment with a therapist that has fairly extensive experience with elderly person's disorders and cognitive rehab. I pray she can help. I pray she can guide Mom to let go of her intense fear of being hurt and let me help her (i.e. trust me when I tell her to take more meds or that her HE is showing, or that maybe she shouldn't keep taking cash out on the credit card, or ignore her doctor's orders). My hope is that we can manage the HE as much as possible and avoid episodes most of the time. It's not something that can be entirely controlled, but if she would listen to me sometimes, and see the signs and be proactive about it, we can really keep the episodes short and less severe. 

I pray that she can get a transplant to get rid of the monster for good. I know she loves me, but the monster doesn't, and it's mutual. I want to remember these happy memories of cardboard dollhouses and paper table cloths. I'll try to post more tidbit memories like this, to remind myself where my goodness comes from. <3