Don't take that tone with me

It's tempting to keep all the messages Used To Be Mother leaves on my phone and do a mix with music.  It might take some of the sting out of them. Right off you notice her voice is different. It's her Drama Queen voice.  She whimpers.  She feigns tears.  My mother could and frequently did manipulate with the best of them but now without logic and reason, she relies solely on her tone to get what she wants.  She uses a string of names like dear, darling and honey that our mother never used.  She always says she misses me even though I just saw her the day before.  Dementia hasnt robbed her of time nor dates. After she tells me how lonely she is, she then terminates it with that guilt invoking: "You don't want me." I resent these calls for they dig up old unsettled dynamics and scratch at the scabs left from long ago jagged confrontations.  I resent that she plays that manipulation trump but mostly I hate that I'm not more understanding and compassionate.  These exchanges show that part of my underbelly that faith and prayer and repentance never seem to uncover.  Used To Be Mother now exposes my weakness just as she did when I was younger. I'm not immune to manipulation.  Im not impervious to her tone.  I'm tired some days of having a one sided conversation.  I'm tired of her inane conversation.  I'm tired of her sweetie and darling and "is this too hard for you." when she knows darn well that I will take her to run errands or appointments.

I brought her here all day on Thursday.  Her tone had got to my good caring patient side.She sat in her chair all day knitting her dishcloths and listening to the radio station. She told me when she was hungry and when she wanted to go home.  We said very little.  And that I suppose is the thing I hate the most.  Im just a caretaker for This woman with her vacant eyes and demanding voice.