Fear in the Act of Walking

There is fear in the act of walking. Not fear about stumbling and falling. Not scared of a dog bite. No, the fear of Mom deciding it would be ok to go for a walk on her own during the day while Kathy and I are at work.

We have locked the gate in the yard so she doesn’t slip out that way, and the only way out of the side of the house is through the garage. He escape is the front door and she hasn’t been going out since we put a sign up saying the door is broken. So far.

We went for a walk yesterday. Mom, Pepper, and I. I asked her to keep walking when the dog would stop since I knew we would catch up with her. When it came time to make a turn she kept going straight. I had to tell her to turn otherwise she would have gone in the wrong direction.

She asks if she can take the dog for a walk. She doesn’t want us to come and feels she can do it on her own. We’d lose both her and the dog. Fear.

I wish Joe could have a sit down with her. I wish he could have the task of sitting Mom down and telling her in a kind way that she doesn’t have the mental capacity to walk around a block by herself. We know we have to do it, and in our own ways we do. Difficult and heart wrenching. Telling someone that we can’t allow them out of the house without our supervision.

On a different note, I threw ice in the sink. It was sitting in the bottom by the drain where it is covered for the garbage disposal. We heard her taking it out of the sink and putting it into her glass. I got up and told her she can’t have ice that way. It was tossed out and not meant for drinking. Now we have to be careful how we throw things away. One more thing to put on the list of “fear” items.