My mother is losing it!
My mother is almost 93, still healthy, lives alone, and until recently has been pretty clear-headed. There seemed to be some deterioration in her mental clarity after the Raleigh ice storm of 2002 when she was without power for 8 days. She refused to go to a shelter or anyone else's home, and though she had a roaring fire in the fireplace, the temperature inside never left the 50's.
Still, it was just minor things at first. Always a stickler for correct grammar and spelling, she would misspell words when playing Scrabble. She tended to repeat herself a bit. Nothing major, nothing to be really concerned about. After all, she is quite old.
It’s only in the last six months that she’s been really slipping. My sister came up to visit me in March, and my mother called me in a panic because she couldn’t find her in Raleigh, even though we’d talked to her on the phone after my sister arrived.
And now I know for sure that she has lost it. Why? She’s a big fan of Clay Aiken’s, so I told her to be sure and watch the American Idol finale last week. When I talked to her later, I asked her if she saw it. “I’m not sure,” she said, “I don’t think so.” Ever since her old remote died and she's had to figure out a new one, she's had a hard time finding channels and knowing what station she's on. Still, you'd think she'd be able to tell if she was watching American Idol or not! Well, OK, the look was a big change–she just didn’t recognize him, I thought, so I sent her some pictures.
I talked to her again yesterday, and she asked me how Clay was doing, as always. I told her his AI appearance had been a great success and caused quite a stir. “Did you see the pictures I sent you?” I asked. “You mean the one with a hat?” she replied. I laughed, and said, “Well, it might have looked like a hat.” “No it was a hat,” she insisted, and then I realized what picture she was talking about. This one, which I e-mailed to her last August:
My mother and I became Clay Aiken fans together. Every week after American Idol the year he was on, we would talk about the show and his performances that week. She had a friend who knew Clay well, and we were all thrilled that a Raleigh boy had advanced so far in the competition. That was my nickname for him back then: “Raleigh boy”. After the show ended, I got hold of his demos on e-Bay and made her copies for her birthday. I gave her a copy of the Rolling Stone when it came out, and it disappeared mysteriously into her bedroom. I bought her each single and album, and put copies of his AI performances, photos, and television appearances on her computer. She liked these better than the CD’s because, she would always say, “I need to look at him when he’s singing.” Every now and then she’d chuckle and say, “I may be old but I’m not dead yet.” She compared Clay often to Frank Sinatra–“It’s just like Frank,” she would say–the screaming fans, the pop culture phenomenon. I think Clay made her feel like she was his age again:
Then it seemed that her interest cooled. I’d start to talk about him and she would change the subject. I don’t know what happened, and I probably never will, but my theory is that she was tormented so often by my Clay-hating sister and brother that she became embarrassed about loving Clay so much. I know she didn’t really stop caring, because when we went to see my cousin a couple of summers ago–my cousin is also a Clay fan--my mother took all her clack along to share with her. But Mom wouldn’t talk about him with me anymore.
My mother’s laptop crashed that winter, and with it went all her clack. I wasn’t in town, and my brother bought her a new one and replaced all her files–everything except the Clay stuff. No more clack, and too much pride to ask for more.
Last December the whole family went to see Clay’s Joyful Noise concert in Raleigh–everyone except Mom. She hates crowds and doesn’t get around well, so she wouldn’t go. I had bought her a ticket, so I gave hers to my brother. My niece loves Clay, so of course I had a ticket for her, and my sister, who had agreed to go along "just to keep us company". My brother's son decided since "everyone else was going" he wanted to go too, so we got him a ticket at the box office. Everyone enjoyed it immensely. The show put us all in the Christmas spirit, and we were giggly and uplifted by the experience. My brother recorded the concert on his i-Pod, and we all downloaded it onto our mp3 players. On his recording you can hear my sister going "wah hoo" at the end of "Beautiful Star of Bethlehem, and exclaiming at how cute little Gregory was in his Rudolph nose--gotcha Sis! Clay was the talk of our household for a couple of days before and after that concert.
Since then, my mom talks about Clay again. She still won’t admit to being a fan, but she does want to hear all the news. I don’t think she remembers much of it, and I guess she’ll never know the “new” Clay, but she definitely remembers this:
The story behind the picture. During the Jukebox Tour, Clay went into the audience every night to find a man to come up and dance with his back-up singers. He tried to find the guy who looked least like he wanted to be there. Funny stuff, great Aiken ad-libs. One night, as he was returning to the stage, he spotted this lady in the audience and took her with him to the front to a better seat. What a sweet man he is!!
Still, it was just minor things at first. Always a stickler for correct grammar and spelling, she would misspell words when playing Scrabble. She tended to repeat herself a bit. Nothing major, nothing to be really concerned about. After all, she is quite old.
It’s only in the last six months that she’s been really slipping. My sister came up to visit me in March, and my mother called me in a panic because she couldn’t find her in Raleigh, even though we’d talked to her on the phone after my sister arrived.
And now I know for sure that she has lost it. Why? She’s a big fan of Clay Aiken’s, so I told her to be sure and watch the American Idol finale last week. When I talked to her later, I asked her if she saw it. “I’m not sure,” she said, “I don’t think so.” Ever since her old remote died and she's had to figure out a new one, she's had a hard time finding channels and knowing what station she's on. Still, you'd think she'd be able to tell if she was watching American Idol or not! Well, OK, the look was a big change–she just didn’t recognize him, I thought, so I sent her some pictures.
I talked to her again yesterday, and she asked me how Clay was doing, as always. I told her his AI appearance had been a great success and caused quite a stir. “Did you see the pictures I sent you?” I asked. “You mean the one with a hat?” she replied. I laughed, and said, “Well, it might have looked like a hat.” “No it was a hat,” she insisted, and then I realized what picture she was talking about. This one, which I e-mailed to her last August:
My mother and I became Clay Aiken fans together. Every week after American Idol the year he was on, we would talk about the show and his performances that week. She had a friend who knew Clay well, and we were all thrilled that a Raleigh boy had advanced so far in the competition. That was my nickname for him back then: “Raleigh boy”. After the show ended, I got hold of his demos on e-Bay and made her copies for her birthday. I gave her a copy of the Rolling Stone when it came out, and it disappeared mysteriously into her bedroom. I bought her each single and album, and put copies of his AI performances, photos, and television appearances on her computer. She liked these better than the CD’s because, she would always say, “I need to look at him when he’s singing.” Every now and then she’d chuckle and say, “I may be old but I’m not dead yet.” She compared Clay often to Frank Sinatra–“It’s just like Frank,” she would say–the screaming fans, the pop culture phenomenon. I think Clay made her feel like she was his age again:
Then it seemed that her interest cooled. I’d start to talk about him and she would change the subject. I don’t know what happened, and I probably never will, but my theory is that she was tormented so often by my Clay-hating sister and brother that she became embarrassed about loving Clay so much. I know she didn’t really stop caring, because when we went to see my cousin a couple of summers ago–my cousin is also a Clay fan--my mother took all her clack along to share with her. But Mom wouldn’t talk about him with me anymore.
My mother’s laptop crashed that winter, and with it went all her clack. I wasn’t in town, and my brother bought her a new one and replaced all her files–everything except the Clay stuff. No more clack, and too much pride to ask for more.
Last December the whole family went to see Clay’s Joyful Noise concert in Raleigh–everyone except Mom. She hates crowds and doesn’t get around well, so she wouldn’t go. I had bought her a ticket, so I gave hers to my brother. My niece loves Clay, so of course I had a ticket for her, and my sister, who had agreed to go along "just to keep us company". My brother's son decided since "everyone else was going" he wanted to go too, so we got him a ticket at the box office. Everyone enjoyed it immensely. The show put us all in the Christmas spirit, and we were giggly and uplifted by the experience. My brother recorded the concert on his i-Pod, and we all downloaded it onto our mp3 players. On his recording you can hear my sister going "wah hoo" at the end of "Beautiful Star of Bethlehem, and exclaiming at how cute little Gregory was in his Rudolph nose--gotcha Sis! Clay was the talk of our household for a couple of days before and after that concert.
Since then, my mom talks about Clay again. She still won’t admit to being a fan, but she does want to hear all the news. I don’t think she remembers much of it, and I guess she’ll never know the “new” Clay, but she definitely remembers this:
The story behind the picture. During the Jukebox Tour, Clay went into the audience every night to find a man to come up and dance with his back-up singers. He tried to find the guy who looked least like he wanted to be there. Funny stuff, great Aiken ad-libs. One night, as he was returning to the stage, he spotted this lady in the audience and took her with him to the front to a better seat. What a sweet man he is!!
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Clay Aiken Clay Aiken fans Frank Sinatra ice storm Raleigh Rolling Stone mother mom
posted by Idle-wandering | 6/02/2006 02:49:00 PM
3 Comments:
MamaIdleWandering is a very nice woman who, at age 93, still goes on her laptop every day. Amazing.
What a nice story! My mom would have loved Clay too. I wish she'd had the chance to experience him.
I came to your blog to read your article on International Fans and continued reading. The story about your mother is very touching. I hope she's doing alright. My own mom passed away a few months before Clay appeared on AI. I know she would have loved Clay. She also used to say "I may be old, but I'm not dead yet!" and also "If I'm going to look at men, I may as well look at some pretty young thing rather than at some old geezer!" Hee. I feel the same way.
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