Shuttered In

Being stuck inside is oppressive, but it's even worse if dementia is involved.

Winter decided to be obnoxiously persistent this year. Snow had left drifts over 10 feet in places making getting around rather treacherous and mind numbing as well as frost biting. Those who couldn't get out felt trapped like prisoners in their own homes. They were shuttered in.

Sarah looked out at the gloomy day. Snow continued to come down. It seemed endless. Sometimes it swirled up in a blanket of white obliterating any chance of seeing the houses across the street.

The schools were closed so there would be no supply teaching today. Good thing, though. Her mother was not having a good day.
Behind her, she could hear her mother shuffling about, muttering to herself.

The two of them lived here with Dementia. It hung like a shroud around the place. Sarah felt its presence as if hemmed in. The claustrophobia was overwhelming at times.

The ruffling of paper bags alerted Sarah to her mother packing up again.

"I need to go home." her mother said clearly, before resuming the incoherent muttering again.

Sarah dragged in another calming breath before turning her gaze toward the hallway to watch her mother struggle along with several bags. The older woman had a hat askew on her head. Below her light green outfit Sarah could see a pink nightgown puckering out at the neckline. She was also wearing her fluffy blue slippers with the big white polka dots.

Aside from the oddity of the scene before her, Sarah noted the fact that the outfit itself was not fit for the winter season. The woman would freeze in a matter of seconds if she managed to make it outside.

"What are you up to mother?" she asked trying to infuse her voice with positive vibes and an upbeat tone.

"I gotta go home. My parents need me. I worry about them being alone out there at the farm."

Sarah took another deep, cleansing breath before assuring her mother they were fine.

"Have you talked to them?"

"Sure." she said not wanting to upset her mother by telling her they had been dead for over twenty years. She had tried to explain it many times before, but it didn't seem to sink in or help. It wasn't her job to be the memory police. She had to pick her battles.

It was moments like this that she felt even more cut off from the world. She needed a distraction. Something to get her mother back into the present moment. Getting her to forget about moving and settled in here.

Later she could unpack the random items and put them back where they belonged. It always amazed her what her mother would shove into the bags. A single shoe, a pair or slippers, a Depend, an incontinence pad, pens, photograph books, pictures from the walls... anything that crossed her line of sight.

Sarah headed into the kitchen following her mother to the door.

"Can you drive me? They stole my car and took my license away from me.... I need to get home."

"Later. First, let's have some tea. We can have some Earl Grey or Orange Pekoe. Your choice." She waited a beat as her mother stopped and stood still.

The old woman stared at the door.

Sarah pulled in another slow breath before saying, "I made some fresh muffins. Apple cinnamon. And there are still some carrot muffins left."
"Carrot muffins?" her mother repeated.

"Yes and I can heat them up the way you like. I can even make up some fresh ones."

The woman nodded, then slowly set her bags down. "A cup of tea would be good."

"Sure. If you go get comfy in the living room I'll bring it straight in." Sarah held her breath waiting for her mother's response. Sometimes telling her what to do did not get the best results.

When she saw her mother turn from the door, she let the breath seep out.

Fixing the tea and making another batch of muffins helped to steady her heartbeat. She hated that her nervous system went into high alert whenever this happened. She focused on the here and now as she kept her ear cocked to listen to what her mother was doing.

The old woman was in the bathroom.

When she emerged, Sarah had the tea ready and was carrying her mother's mug to her spot in the living room.

"The muffins will be ready in a couple more minutes."

Her mother followed her and sat down in her spot on the couch. After a moment the woman asked, "Can you do something for me?"

"What would you like?"

"Can you bring those flowers down off the window?"

Confused Sarah stopped and looked back at her mother. "What flowers?"

"The ones on the wall."

"Oh, those belong here mother. We don't need to take them anywhere."

"It's getting dark," her mother began as if not hearing her response.

"Yes, mother and we are safe and warm in our home. We aren't going anywhere." Sarah turned and headed back to the kitchen.

She dragged in another breath to calm herself. When the muffins were ready she fixed a plate with two muffins and some grapes then took it in to her mother.

"Here you go. Fresh and yummy. Just the way you like them."

"Can you bring me that basket there by the window so I can put the cat in..."

"No, mother. The cat lives here. She does not need her cat carrier. We are no going anywhere. We live here." I put the muffins down beside here.

"Oh, these are lovely. Thank you."

After a moment she resumed petting the cat. "She's a well fed cat."

"Yes, she is.... and she doesn't need any muffin. Those are for you only."

"Mmmm. These are good. Not going to share them with the cat."

"Good idea."

Half an hour later her mother was up and heading for the closet to get her boots and another bag. Sarah pressed her lips together and blew out another breath before asking kindly, “What’s up mother?”

Her mother didn’t say anything. Sarah followed her out to the kitchen and began to tidy things. Her mother stopped by the door. Sarah waited for her to ask about the bags that she had left there, but she had forgotten about them already.

With calm infused in her voice she told her mother they were not going anywhere. “It’s dark and slippery. We need to stay here. In our home. Safe and warm.”

After the third time telling her mother that they were not leaving she reached down to take the boots before her mother could try to put them on again.

Thankfully her mother didn’t get angry. She seemed resigned and returned slowly to her spot on the couch.

Sarah turned on the television and found a show her mother liked. Things fell into a silence.

“It’s stupid to stay here. I need to get home.” her mother's voice was tight with agitation.

Sarah fought the fear that her mother was winding herself up. When this happened it could be hours before she settled.

Fighting for calm, Sarah talked her mother into staying.

“Then we’ll go in the morning?”

Sarah agreed noncommittally. She hated to lie.

Fixing a dinner helped to calm Sarah’s nerves and once her mother had eaten, her voice and agitation seemed to dissolve.

Sarah stayed vigilant worrying that her mother’s thoughts would veer that way again, but once her mother began talking about going to bed several hours later, Sarah relaxed a bit more.

Once the nights went out. Sarah dragged her own ravaged soul to bed hoping tomorrow would be a better day.



Word Count = 1284 words.