We're having a new fence installed today. I hired a company two weeks ago and we laid out the plan for the fence. I'm really impressed. The company showed up right on time and already has the posts in the ground. Mom has been letting me plan and work with the contractor...
... until today. She decided that she didn't like where the fence ends and where the gates are. I told her that it was too late, that the time for the input was before the work was done. We had some trees we had to work around, which is why we designed the fence this way. Now she is mad at me because I should have had enough sense to know where the fence should go.
To tell the truth, I knew she would start getting mad when the work started. And I know she won't be happy with the fence when it's finished. After a lifetime, I know how these things go.
Sad thing is that I was so happy about getting the new fence. The old metal one was in tatters and was depressing. Now it has turned into a thing of stress. I suspect that I may end up paying for it myself. That is okay, I guess, since to me it will be worth it to have a nice fence with pretty, wonderful smelling wood.
This is something else I'm learning about my mother's dementia -- She doesn't remember normal conversations with me. She forgot that we talked about Dad's birthday two or three times. When my brother called, she said she hadn't thought a thing about it. But she does remember that my brother mentioned Dad's birthday. I think I am becoming background noise to her.
I'm going to make some brownies tomorrow and celebrate the completion of the new fence. If she pays for it, fine. If not, I'll be able to cover it. No sore point there, since we both live here. (I just hope that the house doesn't end up going to the state down the road. I'll have to make sure to keep records of everything I paid.)
Of course! We are meant to be mind readers, aren't we? Come on, don't tell me you didn't know where your mother really wanted the fence to go..? Weren't you *listening* (to her secret innermost half-formed thoughts…)?
I started out thinking "f*** me!" when I saw my mother's mournful entry but I'm determined to switch that to thinking "f*** you. Nobody twisted your arm. If you felt that way why didn't you speak up at the time?" Same goes for the fence. Inhale that fresh resiny smell and enjoy. And you make sure she pays what she agreed to pay. No refunds when the work has been well done and to spec.