asparagus mom

Thanks for all the nice comments. I feel supported & loved. No, really, I know that sounds corny, but I do, and thanks. OK, I'm not being eloquent, but I do mean it.

This morning after breakfast (where I narrowly avoided the "gravy," i.e., lard in a jar heated to a semi-liquid state in the microwave—yeesh) Dad took me in his office and tried to show me all his financial records, but he couldn't make head or tails of his own stuff, poor guy.

He showed me one file, then put it away, told me a little about it, then said "I have all that information in a file here somewhere..." I pulled the same file out of the drawer where he'd just put it. "Is this it?" "Oh, yes, here it is," he said happily, opening it up and showing me the same thing.

The main reason I'm here is to facilitate a transfer of all their financial stuff to a guy who will take care of everything for them (we've worked with him for ten years, it's all good). But after this, I told Mom I didn't think he was really able to even have a conversation about the financial stuff, never mind sign papers yadda yadda.

"Really?" she says, surprised. I told her a few examples. "I had no idea," she said, looking shocked. "You see, he never talks to me about this stuff."

"Mom," I said, "He talks. You don't listen." Then, trying to be more compassionate, "You always finish his sentences because you don't want him to struggle for words." She panicked, told me to take Dad out to lunch, and ran in the bedroom and called his doctor.

Lots of feelings. Sad for Dad. Frustrated with Mom (I mean, how can you live with someone and not notice that they can no longer remember what happened ONE MINUTE AGO???) but not as much as I would have been before the unofficial Asperger's diagnosis. It's not that she's self-absorbed, she really can't perceive him. Also I'm sure in this case she doesn't want to.

I guess I feel it's good that I can feel compassionate toward her instead of angry. I just mostly feel sad for both of them—and I have to remind myself to feel sad for me too.

Ah well. This is life.