Cat and Crows

Georg von Trapp

Maria

While I was in Germany in January I saw a play by Michel Lengliney entitled “Who Are You?” The play is about a woman with dementia, her interaction with her son and daughter, and her declining grasp on reality. In the brochure accompanying the ticket I found a very short poem by Mascha Kaléko that had a strangely soothing effect on me.

The Night

In which

Fear

Lives,

Also has

The stars

And the moon

In the phone calls with my 99-year-old mother-in-law I try to end the conversation in the safety of her moon and stars - her cat sleeping in the armchair and the crows pecking at birdseed on the porch. Until a few months ago Mother loved to discuss politics; she still reads the paper every day at her reading machine, but she no longer remembers what she has read. This morning her fear was that nobody would be able to come stay with her because the highway is closed. I tried ten different ways to make her understand that the highway is closed a few miles south of her and that we all live north; that her son had just been with her, that her daughter would come on Wednesday, and she would see me next weekend. She insisted that she is better informed than I am because she just read the local paper. She wouldn’t let go of the fear; even though I reassured her several times that a caregiver is with her until one of us arrives. I gave up on the subject and asked how the cat is doing. She said she wouldn’t leave her cat, even if they wanted to evacuate her (which “they” don’t) and besides, who else would feed the birds in this rain. The tension in our conversation eased and we talked about crows and blue jays and redwing blackbirds. For a while everything seemed like old times. Until I talked about the Mother Bear Project.

Mother is a major contributor to my “bear fund.” In February she wrote a check for $60.00 for the last 20 bears I had knitted. Her handwriting was very shaky and it took great effort to put the right amount and words to paper. This morning, when I told her that I had finished “The Sound of Music” bears and would bring a picture with me, she had no idea what I was talking about. Suddenly she remembered that "you always stand around with needles in your hands.” But it was only a flicker of recognition, no trace of previous conversations about bears and Africa and knitting. It is this “dimming of the light” that makes me so very sad. I think of it as a gradual sinking of spirit, grace, dignity, intelligence, care, love – all drowning in a big dark pool of muddy thoughts. Mother used to talk about memory loss; she doesn’t any more. And so, quickly, before I hang up, I try to erase fear in my own heart by promising a sunny day and a large gang of crows perched in the bare treetops, awaiting my arrival.

And here is the von Trapp Family in no particular order (that's how they loaded). Eventually, if and when the rain stops, I will take them out in the field for a proper group photo. I sing to that!

Captain Georg von Trapp. Bear 229

Liesl, Bear 221

Kurt, Bear 223

Brigitta, Bear 224

Marta, Bear 225

Gretl, Bear 226

Louisa, Bear 227

Maria, Bear 228

Friedrich, Bear 222