My last visit to my mom's was for her birthday. We had a wonderful time with no conflicts, and I was able to take her to do many of the things she enjoys.
Big sis and I took her to her favorite restaurant for lunch. After lunch, Mom got to enjoy one of her favorite activities, shopping at Wal-Mart. Sis and I sat in the cafe and chatted while Mom went up and down every aisle of the grocery side of the store.
In the photo above, Mom and I are having lunch at one of the small, local, inevitably smoke-filled restaurants. I think I'm spoiled living in a state where smoking is banned in all restaurants. I do feel a bit bad for the poor smokers who have to stand outside to smoke in the middle of winter though. Because she can no longer drive, Mom especially enjoys getting out of the house. She always dresses attractively and wears makeup.
In this photo, my uncle is visiting us. My mom was wearing a housecoat and had one foot on a chair. Her whole left leg was showing. Mom has relaxed some of her ladylike conduct since she has had Alzheimer's.
This is Mom and her church buddies. Church is very important to my mom. She always gets a ride with one of her friends, and they often go out to supper after services.
Her minister is just about the worst public speaker I've ever heard. I'm an agnostic, but even I could do a better job than he does. I've heard him stumble over Bible readings as if he's never read them before, so unable to pronounce some of the words that I've nearly shouted them out to help him.
While I was there I also took my mom to hear her favorite gospel singing group and to visit an old friend in the nursing home.
We also visited the opthamologist, and she had another laser treatment for the macular degeneration. Sometimes I wonder if she really needs all those treatments she gets. Perhaps I should take her to get a second opinion. There are always so many things to do.
When I left I felt satisfied that I had helped my mom have an enjoyable week. And she told me that her heart was healed and that she loved me.
