In the last years of her life, Mother lived with my sister in Atascadero, California. Mother loved to go for drives and Anet planned to take her to Morro Bay most mornings. Soon after they opened their coffee, Mother would ask, “Is that the Panama Canal?” My sister was patient and always answered, “No, Mother, that’s the Pacific Ocean. Within moments, my mother would again ask, “Anet, is that the Panama Canal?” After several rounds, Anet would change her answer and say, “No, Mother that is the Pacific Ocean as far as you can see.” Mother’s follow up was usually, “The Pacific Ocean, huh. Well, where does it go?” Anet was honest and told her, “All the way to Japan, Mother.” If she had no distraction, Mother would begin the cycle again. 

Thinking that the Pacific Ocean was the Panama Canal was bizarre even when Mother’s condition was taken into account. Thinking back to anything in Mother’s past that even briefly touched on the subject of the Canal brought up a memory. I thought about Mother’s new fixation on the Panama Canal and decided that it all stemmed from her disappointment over a gift she received after her aunt’s trip through the canal about 20 years earlier.

I recalled my mother being deeply impressed when her decidedly stingy and rampantly paranoid aunt booked passage on a ship that would be passing through the Canal. Mother and Aunt Grace discussed the trip in depth and Aunt Grace always included some comment about the souvenir Mother would get in return for all the little favors she did for her. Mother’s main favor was driving Aunt Grace back and forth to her lawyer’s office so she could change her will.

Aunt Grace’s daughter-in-law was continually bouncing in and out of her will with her status dependent on whether Grace thought she had broken into her apartment and stolen things – out of the will- or whether Grace had decided to forgive her for the b&e – back in the will. These trips added up over the course of a couple of years.

Now, about the Panama Canal. Grace booked a trip through the Canal with plans to stop in Colombia and buy something with an emerald. Then, she would make the promise that Mother would get a gift. I can see how things could get a little got a little smeary for Mother. Over time I believe Mother began to see an emerald in her future with her certainty growing after every trip to the lawyer.

I never saw Grace give Mother any gift of value, even though she could have afforded something nice, and why Mother thought Grace would suddenly behave differently, escapes me. I believe this expectation was fed by comments Aunt Grace made about how much she appreciated all that Mother had done for her, how precious Mother was, and some talk about how cheap an emerald was if you bought it while passing through the Canal.

Mother may have hoped for an emerald, but Aunt Grace’s gift didn’t come close. Mother’s thank you gift was a pound of Colombian coffee. Maybe that experience was so deeply imprinted on her mind that Mother, in the fog of Alzheimer’s, returned to her earlier interest in the Panama Canal.

That may have settled my mind on why Mother became fixated on the Panama Canal, but it did nothing to resolve Mother’s other Morro Bay fascination. In addition to her interest in the Panama Canal, she developed a sly, but shy, interest in just what the surfers were up to in their parking area behind where she sat. They came out of the water in their wetsuits and, after wrapping a towel around their waist, would shed their wet suits and pull on their regular clothing. Looking at them through the side view mirror, she would pretend only casual interest. However, she gave herself away one day. Not only did she ask Anet if they ever dropped their towels, she broached this subject. As they were leaving the parking lot, they passed the Men’s bathroom. Mother turned to Anet and said, “Let’s go in there and see those things we love so much.”