Blessed Trinity. Vanessa Davis Griggs
you’ll know for sure and have peace of mind.”
“So what’s on your mind?” he said, looking closer at her troubled, unsmiling face.
“Nothing.”
He got up, squatted down in front of her, grabbed both her hands, and looked into her eyes. “Johnnie Mae, what’s wrong?”
She released the towel and looked back at him. “I called over to check on my mother while you were on the other line talking with Reverend Knight. She’s having a bad day today. Really bad. It’s getting so hard. With Rachel home visiting, I now have Rachel, Marie, and Donald ganging up and badgering me about my decision to let Mama stay in her own house instead of putting her somewhere. But Mama doesn’t want to leave her home yet. She loves her house…she loves her community. That’s her comfort zone. How can I make her leave that?”
“I know. I just don’t get why they won’t trust your judgment. Your mother did—that’s why she put you in charge of her affairs.”
“Rachel spent the night at Mama’s house this past week, and she says Mama gets up in the middle of the night and wanders around the house. She said Mama could leave the house and no one would know where she’s gone. It’s unsafe not knowing what her state of mind might be when she’s wandering around unattended.”
“I guess none of you would have known this otherwise,” Landris said.
“No. We thought Mama just went to sleep and stayed asleep until one of us stopped by in the mornings to check in with her. Rachel asked me how I’d feel if something terrible were to happen to our mother just because I refuse to move her to a home. She says I’m being stubborn and reckless. I know she’s the oldest and all, but I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“Stubborn and reckless—is that what she said?”
“Yes. And it hurts. I’m trying to do what I think is right. Landris,” Johnnie Mae had tears in her eyes, “I don’t know what to do. I know putting Mama in a nursing facility might seem like the right thing to do to them, but I can’t manage to get something out of my head Mama said when we were little.”
Pastor Landris moved the almost-empty clothes basket and sat next to her. He placed his arm gently around her. “What did she say?”
“That no matter what, we had better not ever put her in an old folks’ home.”
Landris pulled her in tighter, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m sure she didn’t mean that.”
“Oh, she meant it. Back then, she definitely meant it. Mama’s brother had their mother put in a home. Here was this vibrant, active, alert woman, and Uncle Rusty had her put in a nursing home because he didn’t want to be bothered. When we were little and Mama would talk about the awful things that happened to her mother while she was in that place, how rapidly her mother declined, she always told us we had better not ever send her to one of those places. She didn’t care how bad she got—one of us ought to love her enough to fight for her and even take her in if we had to.” Johnnie Mae laid her head on Pastor Landris’s shoulder.
“You know, all that your mother said back then was before anybody knew anything about Alzheimer’s. She didn’t know what was coming, and how it would affect her.”
“I know, but she thinks she’s fine. Fifty-percent of the time she’s her normal self. If we tried to put her in an assisted-living place or nursing home, she’d feel betrayed. I just know she would. Even now, she thinks all we want to do is put her away and take what’s left of her money.”
“Yeah, I know. She told me last week when I was over there that Rachel was only coming home to try and steal her money out of the bank. She asked me to take her to the bank so she could get it out and hide it. She accused Donald of taking things out of her house and thinking she doesn’t know it. She said she’s not crazy. She knows when things are missing.” He stopped to see how Johnnie Mae was taking all of this. She seemed to be handling it okay, so he continued.
“She thinks Marie is the really sneaky one because she acts like she cares so much about your mother, when all Marie ever talks about is your mother going to a home just so she can commandeer her house. Your mother feels Marie is merely pretending to care about her. I tried to tell her all of you really do care about her. So naturally, now she thinks I’m part of the conspiracy.”
“And me?” Johnnie Mae knew Landris was trying to spare her feelings. “What did she have to say about me?”
Pastor Landris looked at her. He knew he couldn’t lie to Johnnie Mae, not even to protect her feelings. “She said you don’t care anything about her. All you care about is that baby of yours, whose name she couldn’t remember, and that jack-legged preacher you married. I guess that would be me.” He tucked his wife’s side-bang behind her ear. “She thinks most preachers are crooks and your smooth-talking husband needs church money, so she has to be careful around ‘those two holy rollers.’”
Johnnie Mae cried silently as Landris held her close.
“I’m sorry you had to hear Mama saying all of that. I know it can’t be easy for you to tell me this, either, but I need to know what she’s thinking.” Johnnie Mae dabbed her eyes with one of the hand towels. “And Christian? What did she say about my brother Christian? Did she mention him at all?”
“Oddly, she thinks Christian purposely stays in the army so he won’t have to be bothered with her. She doubts if something were to happen to her that he would even take the time to come home and see about her.”
“Wow, you certainly received an earful.” Dabbing at her eyes some more, she tried to control her sniffles, then grabbed up the remaining four towels and began to fold them.
“Johnnie Mae, don’t be hard on yourself. When your mother came back to herself again, which was about thirty minutes following her rant about all of you, she had the most wonderful things to say about each of you.”
Johnnie Mae began to cry again. “Why is this happening to her? Why my mother?” She sat back and began to rock slightly. Pastor Landris pulled her close to him again and held her still. Johnnie Mae sat straight up. “I have to find a sitter for Mama, at least during the night. And that’s that. The sooner, the better.”
“Excuse me, Johnnie.” It was Ms. Bertha. She was a tall woman, six-feet-one, and a few years younger than Johnnie Mae’s mother. “I was coming to get the towels to put them away before I left for the day. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation just now, but did I overhear you saying something about needing a sitter for your mother?”
Johnnie Mae smiled and wiped her face completely, hoping to erase any visible signs of her distress. “Yes, Ms. Bertha. Do you happen to know anyone who might be interested and would be really good? I don’t need anything major done for Mama, at least not at this point.”
Ms. Bertha slowly placed her hand over her heart. “Yes, ma’am, I believe I do. In fact, I have the perfect someone in mind.” She released a huge grin. “Me.”
“You?”
“Yes, Johnnie. All my kids are grown and gone. There ain’t nobody left but me. It gets lonely being at a house by yourself,” Ms. Bertha said. “So staying at your mama’s wouldn’t be a hardship on me. And you know I love your mama…I love me some Countess Gates. Truthfully, it wouldn’t even be a job to stay there with her. I don’t come here to your house but three times a week, so it wouldn’t be too much on me to do both. I’m a light sleeper, so keeping an eye on her wouldn’t be a problem a’tall.”
“Ms. Bertha, I can’t ask you to do this. I’m sure you don’t want to be confined to sitting around during your off time. What about the bowling league and the other things you do with the people at your church? No, but I truly appreciate your offer—”
“Johnnie, you need a sitter. And I could use the extra cash. To be honest, I was thinking about looking for more work to supplement my income. Things keep going sky-high these days. It’s getting