OP- y’know how you likely have a friend with an elderly parent and when you ask how he’s doing you hear “he has good days and bad days”? This is where you are right now. The good days are when they eagerly decide they want to buy a grill, get themselves to the store, buy the grill. The bad days are when they are surrounded by tiny bolts trying to decipher a schematic. Which makes them angry and frustrated and irritable- just like any of us would be/will be when something we used to do with ease becomes too hard to figure out.
Years ago I started counseling parents on CC to “love the kid on the couch”. These were families where the eldest was winning awards, curing cancer, doing triathalons at the age of 14 and then heading off to read to the blind. And the parents just assumed “Raising kids ain’t so hard”. And then comes number 2 or 3- different kid. Not a joiner. Doesn’t care about winning, is a cheerful and robust contributor to discussions in school but the teachers regularly get frustrated that he or she isn’t “living up to their potential”.
Parents gotta figure out how to love THAT kid, in addition to the one who will clearly have folks saying “gee, they are great parents, look how successful their kid turned out to be”.
This is you. It was easy to tolerate/love/respect/put up with your MIL, warts and all, when she was the healthy and well adjusted widow who had money, owned her own home, was relatively independent with tons of friends and activities she loved. And now comes the hard part. Figuring out a strategy for a different MIL.
Does Bob have dementia, an undiagnosed UTI, a vascular disorder, a meningioma? Who knows. Has your MIL always been a closet narcissist, or an enabler, or whatever being married to your FIL required her to be? Who knows.
But here you are. And as the child of two parents with early onset Alzheimer’s, I’m here to tell you that a person can go from planning an elaborate trip with multiple stops and organized historic tours and then heading back to work the day after returning- jet lag and all- to being someone who stared at the toaster for ten minutes trying to figure out where to put the English muffin. And it can change in a month. Competent organizer, traveler, roll with the punches, doesn’t need a lot of sleep to “good days and bad days” in the blink of an eye. Good days meant going to work (was excellent at compensating for the deficits). Bad days meant keys, cash, ATM card, all disappearing or misplaced or god knows what and the cheerful demeanor replaced by anger and frustration and lashing out when a loved one would ask “how did you get home from work without your car keys?”
And that was the end of the car. Gone the next day.
So my heart goes out to you- you are so magnificent. But the grill is likely the first of many meltdowns and probably a sign that activities requiring reading signs, hand-eye coordination, deciphering instructions are no longer safe for Bob (and your MIL in the passenger seat).