Senior Prom – 6/22/2013
The borrowed gowns sparkled and bow ties were tied loosely
around dress and golf shirts alike. Upbeat
versions of Fly Me to the Moon and Bye Bye Blackbird were playing in the background as Arden Courts
Memory Care held their senior prom.
I had arrived earlier in the evening to select a dress for my
mother, a resident at Arden. A local
church had donated prom dresses, suit coats and dress shirts, ranging in size
and color. My mother, still her petite
4’10”, is a bit more rounded in the tummy, so finding an easy fit was utmost.
Sorting through the options, I ruled a few out based on
color, some on style - she never wore strapless, many on size. I grabbed three dresses and hoped one would
work.
The event was to be held after dinner, when Mom usually
slept. But one of the caregivers helped
to get Mom clean and dressed. Our first attempt was a long gold dress, gold lame bodice and satin from waist on down. After the
exhausting process of zipping and tugging, Mom decided the bed was a better
option. As she reclined, I slipped a pearl bracelet on her wrist and secured a band
of pearls around her neck.
Her eyes were fluttering closed, but determinedly, I pulled her
back up to sitting to place clip-ons, white roses surrounded by faux diamonds, around
her ears. After returning her eyebrows
to their former glory, and doing the same with lipstick, I convinced her to stand
and view herself in the mirror. We both
stepped back to admire her. “You look
beautiful,” I remarked. And she turned
and led me to her wedding day photo, and said, “Well, this too.” No translation was necessary.
As Mom walked down the halls, holding up her flowing golden
gown, caregivers and guests alike stopped to comment on Mom’s appearance. She thanked them kindly or sometimes
answered, “Oh?” and smiled inwardly and moved on. No one made mention of the seamstress’ trick
– a clip on her dress in the back at the waist.
We arrived at the prom, a community room converted into
party room. My husband Mark and son Davis, coaxed into joining me, arrived
shortly after. As recognizable strains
of music began, Mark asked Mom to dance.
Mom danced only for the first part of the evening, but even
so, as she swayed with Mark, she occasionally threw her head back in laughter,
and Davis commented, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nana smile so much.” In reality he had, but I knew what he meant.
Only once Mom walked away, to see “what was happening
outside.” My husband led her around the
courtyard and returned, while Davis repeatedly answered another resident, who
was searching for her parents and hometown. We never forget what is deeply
seeded.
The evening went on, a little honky-tonk music added to the buoyancy
of the event. One resident, Gloria, waltzed
in wearing a cream two -piece gown, hair in an up-do, well, her style probably
hadn’t changed in many years. She danced
with Mark and when she asked if I was his wife “sitting there,” she commented,
“let’s make her jealous.”
Pauline, dress still in her everyday blue jeans, sang karaoke
with the DJ. The Doctor swung mostly while still seated in his walker. Davis
danced with Ruth Ann, who was insistent on holding her stuffed rabbit, so their
duo became a threesome. Many other scenes that I was not privy to describe so
intimately played out through the night.
The evening ended in exhaustion, Mom returning to her
corridor. Though she protested, I carefully removed Mom’s jewelry, letting her
know we had many special occasions for which to a save them. I slid off her sandals that “sparkled”, like easing
off the glass slippers, and returned her leopard-spotted slippers to her feet,
for which she gave a sigh of relief.
As I walked away, already out of sight, I overheard a guest ask
Mom, “Was that your daughter, did she dance with you tonight?” And Mom replied, “Well, I don’t know.”
In many instances, those replies are like daggers, but for
one evening, I gave a prayer of thanks. For once, neither I, nor Mom's caregivers
were a bother for fussing over her. She rather enjoyed the heightened energy
and attention. For once, guests and
caregivers were fans standing on the sides of the red carpet, applauding the
life Mom and the other residents had marshaled forth in those moments.
After many years, I have learned, by morning, these memories
will have slipped out of their mind’s container and made a home in their
hearts, and mine.
