Sometimes, You Just Have To Laugh

No Trip To The Shops Was Simple

My eldest sister and I shared caring responsibilities for our mum, and we took turns taking her out each week. Thursdays usually followed a familiar routine. First up, the physiotherapist, sometimes the podiatrist, followed by morning tea, a visit to the Flexiteller, any special items that needed to be purchased, then off to the newsagent to buy a Lotto ticket and, last but not least, the weekly groceries.

Getting through the local shopping centre, however, was rarely a quick exercise. Mum had lived in the area for almost 60 years and seemed to know everyone. Before we went inside, I always gave her the same speech.

“Listen, we’ve got a lot to get done today. So just smile and wave. You don’t need to stop and talk to every man and his dog.”

It rarely worked.

We’d be walking along and Mum would suddenly say, “Oh, there’s Mrs So-and-so.” Usually someone I'd never seen before in my life. I’d just say:

“Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her.”

Too late.

“Hi, Mrs D!”

“Hi, love!”

A little further along, someone else would call out, “Hello, Mrs D!”

Mum, with a big smile, “Hello!”

Once we were safely past, I’d quietly ask, “Who was that?”

Her response: “No idea.”

Mum walked through that shopping centre like a rockstar. She became a little taller, her walker had never moved so fast and suddenly she was positively spritely.

Then there was the Flexiteller. Mum could never remember her PIN. On the rare occasions she did, she would announce each number out loud as she entered it.

“Geez Mum! The whole shopping centre doesn’t need to know your PIN!”

If we successfully made it through that stage, she would collect her cash and start waving it around like it was a flag instead of putting it straight into her purse. I’d be trying to grab the money from her while explaining, yet again, why advertising to an entire shopping centre that you were carrying cash probably wasn’t a great idea.

These outings were full of things that needed to be done, and at times they tested my patience. But Mum had an extraordinary ability to turn even the most ordinary errand into something memorable.

The Great Bra Debacle

On one particular shopping trip, my eldest sister and I decided Mum needed some new bras. Mum had other ideas.

“I’m over 80. I don’t need a bra. Who cares?”

“Ah, we care. So let’s go shopping.”

Eventually, we managed to get her into a fitting room. My sister and I waited outside while Mum tried on a few different styles. We waited. And waited. After about half an hour, my sister looked at me and said, “I’m going in.”

A few minutes later, I could hear laughter coming from inside the fitting room. Then my sister’s head appeared around the curtain.

“We need your help.”

As I walked towards the fitting room, I think I may have even mumbled under my breath, “This is above my pay grade.”

I went in and somehow Mum had managed to get herself completely tangled up in the bra. I have no idea how she did it, but by this stage it looked more like a straitjacket than a piece of underwear.

There were now three grown women squeezed into one fitting room trying to untwist Mum and free her from the bra. The problem was, Mum was laughing so much she wasn’t exactly helping the situation. Then came a tap from outside the fitting room.

“Is everything alright in there, ladies?”

That was it. The three of us completely lost it.

Eventually we managed to free Mum and decided perhaps a new bra wasn’t quite as essential as we had originally thought.

For those few minutes, I wasn’t thinking about everything Mum needed or everything I was responsible for. My sister and I weren’t her carers. We were simply three women crammed into a fitting room, laughing ourselves silly.

We were Mum and her daughters again.

The Day Mum Went Missing

One of my sisters lived in Western Australia, so we didn’t get to see her as often as we would have liked. Visits could be anywhere from one to two years apart. On one particular visit, she knew our eldest sister and I were exhausted from doing most of the caring for Mum, so she made us an offer we couldn’t refuse.

She was staying for two weeks and, during that time, she would take care of everything Mum needed. My eldest sister and I could have a much-needed break. We were delighted.

Before handing over the reins, we updated her on Mum’s routine, appointments, medications, dietary requirements and anything else we could think of. When it came to the Thursday physio appointment, I was particularly specific.

“Take Mum inside and make sure she’s settled. If you need to do anything for yourself, this is your chance. But you need to be back within 30 minutes and waiting when she comes out.”

I must have pressed the point one too many times because my sister quickly cut me off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not an idiot. She’ll be fine. I’ve got it covered.”

Okay then.

A few hours later, I received a phone call from my sister. She was a combination of upset, frustrated and angry.

“I’ve lost Mum!”

I can only think how much she hated making that call.

Apparently, my sister had specifically told Mum that if she came out of physio before she returned, she was not to leave. Just wait in the reception area. My sister then headed to the post office, got caught in a long queue and arrived back about 35 minutes later.

Surprise. Surprise. No Mum.

She spent the next hour frantically searching the shopping centre, going in and out of stores trying to find her. Mum, apparently now operating like a well-trained ninja, had managed to elude her at every turn.

By the time she called me, my sister was “not happy Jan”. I desperately wanted to laugh, but she was so distraught I knew this probably wasn’t the time.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be there somewhere. She knows so many people, she’s probably sitting with someone having a coffee.”

Then it occurred to me.

“Go to her favourite coffee shop.”

Sure enough, while I was still on the phone, my sister found her.

There was Mum, sitting happily at the café, smiling and having a coffee, completely unaware of the search operation happening around her.

My sister couldn’t believe it.

“I told her not to leave. I specifically told her to sit there and wait for me.”

There was absolutely no question in my sister’s mind about who was responsible for this little mishap. Mum had been given clear instructions. Mum hadn’t followed them. Case closed.

I found that particularly funny.

“That’s why I said don’t leave her unattended. She won’t remember that you told her not to leave.”

She simply wasn’t with Mum day in, day out, and couldn’t have known all the little things my eldest sister and I had learnt through caring for her.

And Mum? Completely oblivious to all the fuss, she’d had a lovely morning.

Moments like these gave my sister and me plenty to laugh about, but they meant even more when things weren't going so well.