I don’t think I have ever used the word ‘awry’ before so it looks a bit odd when I write it. When things go awry = when things go skewy, veer crookedly off the planned plan, transform pleasant into unpleasant. Awry is my new word for what is happening, unhappening and happening again.
This morning one of Anthony’s nieces and her husband travelled an hour and a half to come and see him. Initially, the plan was that I would order us all lunch at the nursing lodge and eat there, then I realized that there was a restaurant on the beach around a block away so I organized for Ants to be ready in a wheelchair and we would all walk down. So J and D arrived at the farm, we caught up with each other and had a coffee, then drove in to the nursing lodge.
On arrival at the nursing lodge, Ants was in a wheelchair ready but looking angry. Even though I had told him yesterday that D and J were coming and he said he’d like to go to the restaurant, he’d forgotten and was quite cross with me for not telling him. Nevertheless we set off with D pushing the wheelchair. The restaurant was pretty ordinary, nothing flash, and Ants immediately said to me in his new mumbly voice that it was pretty rough but we all ended up having a nice meal and yet Ants remained angry and kept having little conversations with me that I could hardly decipher except that his anger was potent.
I got a bit of a shock because Ants is never angry or rude or ungracious or cantankerous but today he was all of those things. On the walk back up a rather long hill to the nursing lodge he refused to be wheeled in the wheelchair and insisted on walking – very slowly – holding my hand. He somehow got to the top of the road panting a little and D, J and I finally convinced him to get back into the wheelchair. It has been months since I have seen him walk this far and it was obvious that he was trying to prove he could do it in front of J and D. Of course I realized this at the time and I would have had all the patience in the world if he hadn’t been so aggro.
We got him back to his room and transferred him from the wheelchair to his armchair, had a bit of a chat but it just wasn’t working; he was still angry and when I sort of told him off in a flippant way he said it wasn’t J and D, it was me he was annoyed with. Oh great, I thought. So I explained we had to go but then he insisted on walking us all out. I tried to stop him because he was exhausted, but, as usual, I relented, fetched the walker and we all slowly made our way out. We all tried to stop him coming out of the front door but he wouldn’t stop. J and D said their goodbyes and walked up to the parking lot to wait for me. Once they had walked away, I burst into tears and said to Anthony, “Why? Why are you so angry with me? I organized this lunch for you with D and J who we haven’t seen for ages and you were just horrible, especially to me. Why?”
This anger thing is new. Oh great – what fun. Yesterday was total confusion and today anger. What next?
Yes, yes, I know it’s the Parkinson’s Disease Dementia crawling around in his brain – I know that and I am not complaining because I understand and empathize and his homesickness is like a constant haunting taunt for him and me, and I love him so much but he really hurt me today and maybe taking Anthony out, or home, is a bad idea – unsettling, disorientating, confusing. Maybe I will have to give up.
Awry.
jmgoyder 