Tag Archives: caregiving

By Turning, Turning, It Comes ‘Round Right

Posted on July 30, 2011 by Tom Laughon

I wrote my first post for this blog, A Gift to be Simple, May 22 of this year in order to begin capturing in writing a strange, new, mysterious, yet wonder filled journey for both my mom, my family and me.

After the death of my dad, Fred, in 2002 and younger sister, Nel on March 28, 2011, mom and I were the last two of the core Laughon family still standing. In addition, my two daughters and their families live in Wilmington, North Carolina.

A little over a year ago, hand in hand with my wife, Melissa, I moved back to Richmond from Tallahassee, Florida, where I had become the poster boy for “Life is Good” for 15 years. The primary reason for the move back was to be able to provide the kind of ever increasing care and attention my mom and sister were requiring.

Our marriage, our business, and our teaching at Florida State University all happened while living in Tallahassee.

Melissa and I were growing a great little management consulting firm, Catch Your Limit, and had lots of flexibility and freedom to create and live a good life/work balance, were adventurous travelers (business and pleasure), avid outdoor enthusiasts, and had a lifestyle and friendships that were of the highest order.

Oh, did I also mention our big, audacious goal was to become the world’s greatest couple!? And, nothing that we couldn’t manage, was stopping us from achieving it. It was within our reach and that was exhilarating.

Then came the Great Change! Even though Melissa and I prided ourselves on the work we’d done guiding organizations through major transformational change challenges as well as helping develop leadership skill sets on leading change, we had no idea what was about to hit us.

The Great Change short, overwhelming list:

  • Putting our home on the market and discovering we would probably get only two-thirds of what it had been worth.
  • It’s still on the market.
  • Having to put an end to one of the most gratifying, rewarding experiences of our lives, teaching (and learning) at Florida State University for ten years. And for a Florida Gator to say he loved that school, is really saying something.
  • Having a disastrous move compliments of United Van Lines. If you want your belongings converted into puzzle pieces, go United!
  • Saying goodbye to a community where we had developed strong roots and a reputation for being entrepreneurial,  trusted advisers, innovative thinkers and most of all leaders and doers.
  • Telling our staff we were leaving them behind knowing we were the primary reason they were with our firm in the first place.
  • None of them came with us and have sense moved on to places as near as Tampa and far away as Seattle.
  • Having to build brand awareness and gain traction for our firm in Richmond in what continues to be a stuttering, fraught with uncertainty, economy.
  • Melissa moving from the only two states she has ever lived in, Georgia and Florida where all of her family and friends are, to a city that is four to five times larger than any she had ever lived in and a long, long way, even as the crow flies, from home.
  • The uncertainties of care giving and the realization that flexibility and freedom comes with a huge price tag not to mention the emotional cost.

Just reading this short list has me hyperventilating and looking for cover or my blankie!

Don’t panic (I am whispering this to you and me)!

This post is all about celebrating that we are:

  • Loving Richmond and the region (Melissa even loves the snow)
  • Way closer to my daughters and grand kids
  • Establishing awareness and gaining traction for our consulting firm and discovering that there is a lot more opportunities for business in our new backyard then we had
  • Learning how to be stronger, better prepared, caregivers
  • Facing tumultuous change with everything we have in us
  • Learning how to lead and deal with change better than ever
  • Finding that there are plenty of teaching opportunities when the time is right
  • Still committed to being the world’s greatest couple
  • In the midst of it all, sticking with the blog

I am really, really proud of us. This journey is not for the faint of heart by any stretch of the imagination!

You have to have heart, courage, faith and the ability/flexibility to change on a dime. You have to have a powerful sense of self as well as a powerful sense of humor. You have to quickly learn from your missteps, failings and mistakes and move fast forward.

To say we have had our share of rough patches is an understatement. We bought an off road jeep as a symbol for just how rough a journey we are own.

I had no idea the scope of this journey or where it would take us, but it is leading Melissa and me to explore places and things we have never experienced before and to see old places and things in a whole new light. It is giving me a glimpse of what I am made of and that is not always a pretty sight. And, it is also giving me a glimpse of who I am hell bent and determined to be and that is a better me.

That part has me more excited and determined to move forward than anything.

The key is to keep going and growing. Giving up is not an option.

Even with the ups and downs, twist and turns age and dementia bring our way, mom and I continue to learn, love and respect each other. And that goes for Melissa, my daughters, the grandkids as well.

No matter how complicated the challenges, the purpose is simple. Try to give back what was given to you, because what goes ’round comes ’round.

I keep hearing my mom and sister singing in the back of my head. ” To turn, turn will be our delight, till by turning, turning we come ’round right.”

It is a gift, that if given unconditionally, forms a circle … the circle of life.

The lyrics to the song, A Gift to Be Simple, featured in my first post, are worth a mouse click to read and reread.

The more I revisit it, the more I believe this old Shaker hymn represents my family’s credo.

But, before you go there, click on this old video Melissa took on Thanksgiving day, 2008.

It features Mom, my sister, Nel and me  singing A Gift to Be Simple. Guess which two know the lyrics by heart and which one needs a little help! That’s been the story of my life!

Singing is what we did as a family from as far back as I can remember. I find comfort in being able to close my eyes and hear my dad’s tenor, mom’s alto, Nel’s soprano and my baritone voices singing in perfect four part harmony. It is how we lived our lives together.

In Nel’s intro to the song, she mentions (many times) Tovi and Lissi. They are my daughters that I mentioned earlier. They grew up in Richmond and even though our home was a couple of miles from my parents and sister’s, the walls between them were nonexistent and the girls basically grew up in two homes that had no boundaries … particularly when it came to love.

Those were harmonious, joyful times.

My parents gave us all a gift to be simple rooted in core values that were all about the joy of giving, loving, learning, creativity and accountability.

And, what we as a family are learning as we look mortality in the face … as we see it, smell it, taste it, hear it and feel it is that it is life. It is part of the wondrous circle.

Keep singing.

Keep turning.

Keep the circle going ’round and ’round.

Keep us in your prayers.

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Lessons from Camp Ooga Booga

Posted on July 8, 2011 by Tom Laughon

Kenzie and Livi, two of my granddaughters,  have been with  Melissa and me in Richmond for almost a week.

We call this visit Camp Ooga Booga and our “campers” and their “counselors” have all had a ball! From a couple of great days canoeing and swimming on the James River to fireworks on Brown’s Island, we have had non-stop fun together.

Have I said how much we love these girls?

Kenzie and Livi have also learned a lot about about being great caregivers for their great grandmother, my mom, Helen.

Here are the five things they have learned and practiced:

  1. Talk s…l…o…w and one at a time.
  2. Look directly at Helen, get close to her and say your name every time.
  3. Play with Helen a lot.
  4. Give Helen lots of love.
  5. Stick with Helen.

The girls have memorized their lessons and have practiced with mom every chance they can get. It has really been fun to watch them in action and see how mom responds. It has been a positive experience for the “campers” as well as for their great grandmother.

That is with one exception.

Kenzie and Livi called a special secret Ooga Booga meeting with Melissa and me to complain that mom doesn’t follow the rules. “Helen doesn’t like to share her puzzles, baby doll and other things she plays with.”

When the girls try to play with them, mom grabs them back, holds them close to her and says, “That’s mine, you can’t have it!”

“Yeah, and she takes our toys, too,” Kenzie adds.

There was heavy duty tension in the air at Camp Oooga Booga!

I asked them what they thought they should do.

They both answered, “Nothing! Nothing we try works,” they said.

Kenzie added, “Helen is bigger than us!”

Then Livi had an idea.

Karate Kids“I know … we should do … Kung Fu!”

Kung Fu?! I didn’t have the heart to tell the Karate Kids that mom is pretty fast on her feet for a 91 year old, but hey, why not give it a shot.

Mom does need to relearn how to share.

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The South Will Rise Again

Posted on June 30, 2011 by Tom Laughon

On our drive to adult day care (a.k.a. mom’s workplace, where she lends a helping heart and hand to those in need), mom and I sing songs.

And I mean when we sing songs, we sing with the volume turned up to TEN!

I think, even with the windows rolled up, folks in other cars can see ours rocking and rolling and hear us loud enough to clap and sing along.

This is nothing new. As a family, we sang together like this our entire lives. I sang baritone, dad was the tenor, my sister, Nel, was the soprano and mom the alto.

Together, we made a joyful noise.

It made for good times and shorter trips.

With mom and me the only two in the family choir left standing, we have to make up for the missing harmonies with volume, and with that said, we don’t miss a beat!

One of mom’s favorite songs is Dixie. She sings it like she is standing at full attention and saluting.

However, when she gets to the “live and die in Dixie” part she stops us both from singing, looks at me with a worried look on her face and says, “I just don’t like that part!”

That’s my prompt to say, “Mom, what don’t you like about it?”

She says, “I don’t like the … you know … the die part.”

“Well, how about we sing, “live and live in Dixie?” I suggest.

She smiles with one of her patented light-up-the-world smiles and shouts, “You’ve got it! You are so good, so smart. You are my bestest friend in the whole world. You know everything. I love you so much.”

She repeats, “To live and live in Dixie!”

Then we sing it again with that one BIG change. And, you know what? It gives a whole new meaning to an old, old song.

At the end of the song mom raises both arms skyward and says, “I love that song. I love the south. I wouldn’t live anywhere else. I love living in the south … it’s called Dixie! To live and live in Dixie.”

It’s comforting to know the South will rise again tomorrow, same time, same place … driving mom to work.

My Side Note:

Mom was born in 1919 and raised in Richmond, Virginia, lived in Front Royal and Norfolk, Virginia before moving to Orangeburg, South Carolina and then Gainesville, Florida before coming full circle back to Richmond in 1970.

So, mom, and all of our family for that matter, have only lived in our beloved South.

There is something about the South that gets in your blood and does wonders for your heart and soul.

Thanks for being with mom and me on our journey. Please share your comments, insights and thoughts.

Oh, and please share mom’s and my blog with a friend.

The more on board, the merrier. 

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Who Threw In The Towel?

Posted on June 17, 2011 by Tom Laughon

In my last two posts, The Dirt on My Mom and Team Wash Mom vs. Mom, I gave you a ringside seat to watch the competition between mom and the staff at her day care. The competition pits professionals who know how to bathe and change clothes for folks who, for whatever reason(s), just don’t want to be bathed or to change clothes.

My mom is one of those folks.

Even though she is not a professional like the staff is, she sure knows what she does or doesn’t like to do. And when Helen Douglas Martin Laughon does not like something she has the fortitude, strength and determination to do what she damn well pleases. She stands only 4 foot tall, but cast one mighty intimidating shadow. Oh, and did I mention her voice, when agitated, sounds like a drill sergeant barking orders at new recruits.

Last week, the staff did wash and change mom, but they admitted it was so challenging that they really didn’t do a good job with either. And, mom was the last person standing and still flailing when it was halted before the tasks were properly completed.

So, the referee announced round one was a draw.

Today was supposed to be round two.

Guess what?

Team Wash Mom, after powwowing in the locker room,  just up and forfeited. Yep, the pros threw in the towel before the bell even rang to begin round two.

Their rationale was that they had traumatized mom and mom had traumatized them in the first go round and that they needed two or thee weeks to develop a more trusting relationship and environment before giving it another shot.

Now, I have two or three weeks to go where angels feared to tread.

Mr. Clean (that’s my new, improved, Super Hero persona) is going to take on the greatest challenge ever.

Maybe, with your help, ideas and encouragement, we can do what Team Wash Mom has yet to prove they can do.

“There were too many challenges to enumerate….Good way to grow up, though! Never thought I’d survive, lol, but I did, and the better for it. Obstacles in life are the challenge. Without the challenge, we are empty shells. After overcoming the challenges, we are empowered either by God’s grace, or the devils illusions, depending on how we overcame them. It is 10 years behind me now. Enough to have some insight. My mom was 93.”  – Bion Schouten

Bion, thanks for being with me every step of the way. I am so blessed to have you as my friend. – Tom

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Team Wash Mom vs. Mom

Posted on June 14, 2011 by Tom Laughon

If you read my last post, “The Dirt on My Mom”, you know we gave the staff at mom’s day care the ultimate challenge: Clean Mom!

In order for them to accomplish the mission, I suggested they recruit a sumo wrestler and call up the National Guard.

After much deliberation, the staff decided to go it alone … after all, they are professionals.

So here’s what happened.

Round one was hard fought from the get go by two worthy opponents, both road tested and ring worthy … bathtub ring that is.  And, both were hell bent and determined to win.

It was obvious from the look in the eyes of the competitors, no one was going to be throwing in the towel or waving surrender.

After both sides tested the waters, it got pretty down and dirty. And, although Team Wash Mom did technically wash and change mom, mom continued to prove she was in it to win it!

She countered their every move both physically and verbally with a “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee” mindset.  Thanks to her instincts, wit and determination, the whole washing experience left a lot to be desired and TWM knew it.

It was not their finest moment.

When the bell rang to signal the end of round one, the referee called it (dramatic pause) a draw!

Team Wash Mom, both weary and wary, was just thankful that there would be a round two, and that it would be scheduled one whole week afer round one. That would give them plenty of time to refresh and rethink their strategy and tactics before giving it another go.

No matter how much I warned them about my mom, her cunning and willpower, they obviously underestimated her … to them she was ninety-one and they had met this challenge with many a nonagenarian prior to her. Next time around they would be more prepared.

In the meantime, I shared in “The Dirt on My Mom” post that I had taken on the role of the new, improved Super Hero, Mr. Clean!

My mantra is , “Fight Dirty! Keep It Clean!”

In order to clean up this old world of ours (as well as my mom) my super strategy was to incorporate the help of other Super Heroes, and the staff at mom’s adult day care are indeed Super Heroes. They are amazing!

You have to be a special breed of humans to be caregivers. Their biggest challenge they have is taking time to care for themselves, because of how much time they devote to caring for others. I love and respect you Super Heroes, one and all.

I have adopted the classic Mr. Clean jingle from commercials produced way back in the fifties as my OFFICIAL Super Hero theme song.

Mom would have been in her thirties and I would have been in elementary school when this was bouncing out of TV screens everywhere.

Come to think of it, that’s about the time we got our first television set.

Time flies when you’re singing Super Hero songs and having good clean fun!

That’s all for now.

I’ll be ringside for round two to give you a blow-by-blow commentary and share with the world the referee’s decision.

My prediction is this competition is far from over.

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The Dirt on My Mom

Posted on June 9, 2011 by Tom Laughon

All family stories have to have a little dirt to make them true to life.

My mom has never smoked, drank or cursed (until recently, but that’s another blog). She doesn’t have a hidden tattoo, or man for that matter, in her life. But, there is one little family secret that I will share.

I just as soon come clean now rather than put it off ‘til later.

My 91 year old mom doesn’t like to change clothes or take a bath. In fact, “doesn’t like” is too weak a descriptive.

Helen Douglas Martin Laughon “hates” to change clothes or take a bath. There … the dirty little secret is out!

If you are brave enough or crazy enough to challenge her, sweet talk her, or try to outsmart her, you better be packing. She is one volatile little stick of dynamite when it comes to these subjects. In fact, dynamite and my mom have two things in common. For one, they are both downright explosive. And, two, neither takes to water.

Mom’s doctor said that in order to avoid a heart attack, just let her be. After all, she’s ninety-one, he reminded me. Alarmed, I asked the doctor if mom was in danger of having a heart attack and he said, “Not her, Tom, you!”

Others including professional caregivers have tried to change and bathe mom and failed. Most of us in the family have tried and failed, too.

I have finally gotten up enough courage to change her clothes, including underwear, on a daily basis, although she still sleeps in her skirt and blouse-of-the-day at night.

In order to pull it off, I don’t think of myself as Helen’s son. I think of myself as the new, improved Super Hero, Mr. Clean! I am here to save the day. I am the quick change artist of the universe … I am Mr. Clean!

It’s not easy to be the quick change artist of the universe. First mom says no to anything I show her to change into, and then she mutters unmentionables (this is where the cursing started appearing) while I change her into my pick-of-the-day. Then ends she says, in no uncertain terms, “I’ll do this today, but this is the last time. And, I am running away to Florida and never coming back.”

Thank goodness mom’s short term memory doesn’t allow her to remember what she said today tomorrow. So, I have to remember she’s thinking it for the first time every time. I’m the one who has to hear it over and over again. And it puts the fear of God in me each and every time. No joke.

I’m starting to think Florida might not be such a bad idea. They just don’t wear that many clothes down there, and … it rains a lot. Could be a blessing.

Now that mom goes to adult day care four days a week, we have more than just me on the case. For two weeks, several of the staff and I held top secret meetings and have strategized on how they are going to give her a bath, with the goal being at least once a week from now on. They have learned just how high assertive my little mom is and are very concerned about their own health and well being. So pre-planning is mission critical.

My suggestion was to bring in a sumo wrestler.

Theirs was to tell her she won a trip to a spa.

Mom has never been to a spa in her life.  I am sticking with the sumo wrestler.

Anyway, today is the DAY.

We have collected all the items on the following list to give to Team Wash Mom for the task at hand:

  • Hairbrush, comb
  • Underpants, bra, slip
  • Dress or slacks & top
  • Sweater
  • Stockings, socks & shoes
  • Deodorant
  • Depends, Attends

Payment ($12.00 check – NO CASH)

Heck, I’ll quadruple that if Team Wash Mom really does wash mom!

After reading the list, it sounds like I need to bring mom to adult day care naked this morning.

I don’t feel too concerned about that, after all, they are all adults!

A few years ago, my two daughters, Tovi and Lissi, decided to have an intervention with my mom and sister in terms of them not bathing or changing clothes on a regular basis. Tovi and Lissi had traveled all the way from Wilmington, North Carolina for the showdown at the Not-So-OK-Corral in Richmond, Virginia and were ready to rock and roll.

Tovi, my oldest, minced no words when she kicked off the intervention with, “Gra-ma, you and Nel are dirty.”

My sister, Nel asked, “Do we stink?”

Tovi answered, “yes” and Lissi and I supported that with affirmative nods.

Nel’s eyes locked on Tovi’s and she shot back, “Girls … we … are … hippies.”

And that was the end of the intervention.

So, with that history lesson in mind, today is going to be mighty interesting. The only thing I would add to my suggestion of having a sumo wrestler on Team Wash Mom is the National Guard and mom’s doctor.

Somebody is going to have a heart attack, and I’d bet the farm that it won’t be mom.

Never forget, my 91 year old mom … is … a … hippie.

Digging Deeper

On a closing note, when I shared the draft of this blog with my girls, Tovi emailed her response about the day she and Lissi came to Richmond for the “intervention”.

She wrote, “I had never cried so hard in my life. All Lissi and I came to Richmond to do was to try to vacuum a little, straighten up and see if they (Mom and Nel) would just change their clothes a little more often. And, we wanted to make sure they were eating OK. It is not a good memory. It was one of the worst days of my life.”  

I read a really good article by Carol Bradley Bursack, Editor-in-Chief of ElderCarelink on this subject. It really helped me get my mind and heart around it. It not only gave me some new perspectives, it comforted me in learning we as a family are not the only ones facing these challenges. The title is Hygiene Is a Sore Point for Many Caregivers – When Is Poor Hygiene a Health Issue for the Elder? 
 
I will be interested in your comments and thoughts. And, yes, I will share the outcome of today with all of you. I know you are as interested in knowing what happened as I am.

 

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Mom’s New Baby

Posted on June 1, 2011 by Tom Laughon

Sometime in November of last year, my wife, Melissa, bought a baby doll  from Target  to give to my mom as a gift. She thought it would occupy mom’s time and give her something to do besides torment my sister, Nel, who was (after five plus years of a losing battle with Early Onset Alzheimer’s) in the final, horrific stages.

Nel got extremely agitated at mom for hanging on to her and wanting all of her attention. Mom wanted her buddy, sidekick and constant companion, but  the Nel mom knew was long gone.

Nel wanted peace. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but knew it was serious. She would ask in broken, disjointed words and phrases, “What’s wrong with me? I have been a good girl. What’s wrong?” The tears in her eyes asked the questions. She was terrified, desperate for the answers that were lost to us all.

Nel kept asking me to take her away from mom and from the home mom and she had lived together in since 1972. She would whisper, that she couldn’t take any of it anymore. When I would drive her down to the river, she would just say thank you, over and over and over. The fact is, she didn’t know where she was, but she did know she was away from mom … for a brief time, it would mean needed peace.

The fact is, both Nel and mom needed each other and in earlier times would have each been able to stand tall for the other. But, those times had passed. Nel didn’t understand mom and mom didn’t understand Nel. For the first time in their lives, there was tension between them like none of us as family had ever seen, or even knew how to begin to comprehend. It was as inexplicable as it was devastating. Our world, as we knew it, was gone.

From the instant Melissa handed mom the baby, Mom held it in her arms, cuddled it and talked baby talk to it for hours. It gave her something to hang on to besides Nel and that baby doll gave mom something Nel couldn’t .. its undivided attention.

We thought it was a godsend, but one of our caregivers at the time thought the doll was demeaning to a woman of mom’s stature.

So, in deference to the caregiver, the baby went into hiatus until Nel passed away in April and the caregivers were told we couldn’t afford them any longer. When they walked, we resurrected the baby doll.

Tovi, my daughter and the mother of four of the coolest kids/grandkids ever, gave us support and feedback that backed our plan to give the baby a try, again.

As a caregiver, not only for her kids, but for an elderly lady in Wilmington, North Carolina, Tovi had observed the positive impact  baby dolls had on  a variety of women with dementia. I Googled the subject and there was plenty of evidence to back Tovi’s findings.

In spite of our intuition, Tovi’s take and Google’s last word, this particular doll  gives me the willies. Its “skin” is just way too pinkish, too soft and too pliable. It looks like Baby Cadaver to me. My word for it is squishy. And, even though its blue eyes don’t/can’t blink, they seem to stare at you – no, through you – no matter how you look at them, whether from the front or the sides … willies, willies, willies!

Well, since the day that squishy little Cadaver Doll was introduced to mom, she has adopted it unconditionally. She sits with it, sleeps with it and most of all talks to it in pure baby talk babble. The two of them have become mother and child and genuine pals. And, though the baby is creepy to me, it makes mom smile, gives her something to nurture and most of all, it engages her and occupies her time for hours.

If you suspect jealousy in my life, just call it envy. I can’t keep mom’s attention, interest and connection as well as that, well, Cadaver Baby.

When I walk up to mom’s big soft chair, while she’s holding the baby, she’ll look up at me and say, “Look at this little girl! Ain’t she boo-ti-ful?!”

And, my reply is always the same, “Yep, mom … she is the most boo-ti-ful baby I have ever seen (gag me with a spoon).”

Mom’s two word reply is always the same, too. “That’s right.” Then she just rocks that little ungodly creature in her arms and kisses its forever-bald-head over and over and over. She’ll whisper to the doll, “You have been my little baby for a long time.” And the doll fixes its eyes on mom’s as if to say, “right on mom,” and then shifts to mine as to say in no uncertain terms, “me … not you, big man.”

We have asked mom to name the baby, and she always turns it around and asks what we think the name should be. I named it something like “Good Looking”  once, but none of us could remember it.

Mom told me a couple of times she wanted to name the baby after me.  But since I am not the father, since it wears a pink dress, and since it gives me the willies, I put my foot down on that one.

Last night, while mom was eating supper, with the doll propped up on the table next to her plate, I asked her what her doll’s name was for the umpteenth time. She looked at me and said, what do you think it is?

For whatever reason, I looked down at her plate. She had only two things left on it after devouring everything else in record time  … some butter beans and chicken. By the way, mom really does love her food.

Well, the first thought that came to mind was, no matter how I feel about that baby, we can’t name it Chicken.

So, the only other choice left on the plate was Butter Bean. I suggested it to mom, and without hesitation, she picked up the doll, rocked it in her arms and whispered, “Butter Bean, that’s you, precious. You are my little Butter Bean! What cha think about that, little boo-ti-ful?”

It was such a surreal moment,, I was literally anticipating an answer from the little twirp. After a short pause I said, “Mom, let’s name her Queen Butter Bean!”

Without missing a beat, Mom held Butter Bean close to her lips and said, “You are a queen, little girl! You are the queen!”

For the first time since it had come into our lives, I joined mom and we were smiling ear to ear at that baby.

Quickly living up to her new name, Queen Butter Bean bestowed happiness and joy on both of us. She had a name, and it was a boo-ti-ful thing.

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Watch Out for the Little Lady on the Big Wheels!

Posted on May 28, 2011 by Tom Laughon


Today, Melissa and I took mom to the Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens in Richmond, Virginia. The flowers were in full bloom and putting on a show for all of us. The sky was slightly overcast, which made it perfect for mom. So, once we convinced her that a wheelchair ride would be a fun thing and assured her that we knew she could walk anywhere she chose to, we were off to explore and enjoy each other and the day. We could tell mom was excited, because she was humming and wanting to stop, look and touch anything and everything that had a leaf or a bloom on it.

Mom has never met a stranger in her whole life, and there is no one within her eyesight that doesn’t get a greeting, a question or a comment. Here are a few samples, all from today.

  • “Hi there, sweetheart, isn’t it a beautiful day.” 
  • “You are the prettiest thing! Look at that beautiful dress you have on.” 
  • “I love these flowers, don’t you?”
  • “Hey there, boy! You have the bestest (mom’s word) smile I’ve ever seen!”
  • “Where are you from?”  This was the most frequently asked question of the day. If the answer was, not from Richmond, mom would volunteer to show them around the city after informing them she was born here and that her father was Dr. B.H. Martin “Dr. Berkeley Hancock Martin … the best doctor Richmond has ever had.”

Interspersed with the exchanges above were the following:

  • “That man has the roundest, shortest legs I have seen, do you see those legs, son?”
  • When a well endowed lady in a low cut shirt walked within earshot mom said, that woman has the largest you-know-whats I have ever seen and more than I ever want to see.” Mom then put her hands over her eyes while shaking her head.
  • “I love your hair! I love your teeth, too. They are really something, aren’t they?!”
  • When we asked directions to the tea room and a couple from out of town replied that they didn’t know, mom said, “Dumbest people … they don’t know a damn thing” before we could get away fast enough.
  • She said, “hey girl,” to a long haired teenage boy.
  • She said, “hey boy,” to a short haired lady.
  • While on the subject of hair, mom asked one little lady if she had blue hair.
  • “Hey, I bet you are pretty when you smile!”
  • “Hey there, do you want to sing, This Little Light of Mine, with me?”
  • “Mom said, “hey … hey there” to a Hispanic man, and when he didn’t answer, she looked at Melissa and loudly exclaimed, “I don’t think he speaks English, do you?”

After what was a non-stop-laugh-a-second, don’t-make-eye-contact-with-anyone-mom-might have offended, hide-your-face adventure, I whispered to Melissa, we are going to print a banner that would go wherever we took mom from now own that would read, in BIG BOLD LETTERS:

DISCLAIMER: The opinions expressed by my 91 year old mom do not necessarily reflect those of anyone in our immediate family or friends of anyone in our immediate family. Engage at your own risk. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.

As we rolled mom to the car, she was singing the Star Spangled Banner at the top of her voice. And, by the way, this lady has some pipes. Folks just coming to the gardens didn’t know whether to salute, sing along or run back to the safety of their cars.

We had a blast!

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Mom’s New Walker

Posted on May 23, 2011 by Tom Laughon

Mom does walk some, but it takes her lots of little steps to make one regular step.

And, when she starts swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane she gives anyone watching a major heart stopping moment.

You just know that little palm is about to make a crash landing and when it does,  you’ll be the one that has to put dear old mom back together again.

I think she would break into 91 pieces. One for every year she has been on this planet. And, she doesn’t come with reconstruction instructions. She doesn’t come with a guarantee or warranty. And I am sure there is a no return policy in place. You broke it you bought it.

So, my wife, Melissa and her mom, Barbara, bought my mom a used walker for just $4.99 at the Salvation Army. Great walker, unbelievable price (cheap, cheap, cheap) and it was indeed going to be both our and mom’s salvation.

Only one little problem. Mom wouldn’t walk with the walker and the walker didn’t seem to want to walk alone. “I have never used anything to help me walk in my life, and I am not going to start now,” she uttered. Finally I told her it was the only way we would allow her to go to the john (her word). No walker. No john.

Nature has a way of lending a helping hand, because when nature calls and the only way your son will let you go to the john is with the walker, you learn how to use the walker! Fast!

So now that the walker is a part of the extended family and goes where the rest of the family does not want to go, it has a name.

We call it Johnny Walker, because that what it does!

Now if we can just teach Johnny Walker how to flush.

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A Gift to be Simple

Posted on May 22, 2011 by Tom Laughon

“You are the best thing in the world and I love you very much.” – My Mom

Mom says this or variations of this to me at least ninety-one times a day.

If you ask her, she doesn’t know how old she is. And, when you tell her ninety-one, she says, like every woman on this planet would say,  “Not me, you are talking about somebody else … not me!”

So, my only explanation for how she repeats herself around ninety-one times a day is that it is just meant to be.

In one simple line, mom gives me all I need to keep going and going strong. No, not just strong, but best-in-the-world-strong. Can’t let your mom down, can you? It has become my mantra and when she is not telling me, I repeat it to myself, over and over and over.

Simple!

Speaking of simple, here’s my mom’s (and my sister’s) favorite song. I can’t tell you the number of times I have heard them sing it together. And they would always teach anyone in their presence how to sing it with them. They would always stand and do a little dance in perfect unison when they sang … especially on the turning, turning part.

So, here’s a gift from mom and me to you. It’s an old Shaker folk song that was sung at Obama’s inauguration, Simple Gifts.

Don’t forget to turn!

‘Tis a gift to be simple, ’tis a gift to be free,

‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain’d,

To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

‘Till by turning, turning we come round right.


At 91, my mom is counting on me. And, with just a few words and many unspoken ways, she’s telling me she is counting on me … ninety-one times a day.

“You are the best thing in the world and I love you very much.”

It’s that simple.

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