Today in My History

2000: The Sky is Falling
2001: A Flock of Journalists
Funny--I thought It was Hilly
Once More Unto the Breach
A Bit of Excitement
25 Years in the Making
2006: My Kingdom For...
2007:  Reincarnation
2008: The Biggest Loser
2009:  Crafty Cuzzins
2010:  Books - Books - Books

2011:  The Curse of Adestapledes
2012: The Pit Crewl
2013: The Lass that Loves a Chauffeur

Chemo Day 1; A Photo Album

Bitter Hack
Updated: 10/20
"Steel Magnolias"

Books Read in 2015
 Updated: 10/24
"Darkest Fears"

Mirror Site for RSS Feed:
Airy Persiflage

The New Brasilian in my life
(his video is here)

The Philosophy of Juice & Crackers

The story of Delicate Pooh

The story of the Pinata Group

Who IS this Gilbert person anyway?

mail to Walt

mail to Bev  


11 November 2015

Well, today was a normal day.  I visited my mother at Atria, brought her laundry home, and then went to the supermarket and did a big shopping since we were out of everything.

Where is my room service?  Who is going to prepare a beautifully presented dinner for me?  What show is in the theater tonight?  Where is my all-you-can-eat crab?  Where is the gelato? Good grief, even the ground beneath my feet has finally stopped rocking.  It's almost like it all never happened.  Dorothy is back in Kansas again.

And that normalcy began, of course, with going to see my mother.  I took a selection of post cards to tell her about the trip, figuring that eventually I will make a selection of the best photos to show her.  She didn't seem to remember I had been gone when she opened the door, but then she did and, of course, it took many retellings but that was OK.  We had things to talk about.  And she laughed a lot when I told her about Walt getting left in the bathroom of the bus.

But the best part was going to lunch.  Robert joined us.  He is a regular at her normal table but came in late today, as did we, so we were at a different table.  Her whole demeanor changed when he arrived.  She was back in flirty mode again.  She has always needed a man in her life to flirt with. The two of them are good for each other, he can't hear much and both of them have dementia, so they speak the same language.  Robert's dementia was particularly bad today but somehow they were able to enjoy a conversation. I was amazed that she greeted him by name.  I didn't know she knew ANYONE at Atria by name.

While they were chatting, I was talking with Carol, a woman I hadn't met before, but who has been there not quite a year and says that "Mildred is my favorite person here."  She was a very nice lady and we had a chat until she got vehemently pro-christian and anti-any other religion, even pounding on the table and using "dammit."  I stayed away from that topic!!

Loretta came in while we were lunching. Carol told me I should see Loretta and my mother trading barbs when they are together.  I told her that I had and that they were even better when they had a little wine with their meal.  Loretta is starting to get that 'Atria look' that all the older people with dementia seem to get (my mother included) where they have completely lost interest in their appearance.  In addition to wandering around looking for a friend to eat with, I noticed that she had not brushed her hair and her clothes were "askew."  My mother is frequently like that when we go to eat.  It seems a good way to tell the ones with dementia from the ones without is to check their hair.  Robert's normally well coiffed white hair stood up in back like Alfalfa's.

But all in all it was a good visit.  I dreaded getting back into the Atria routine, but it wasn't at all depressing, and she desperately needed underwear washed.  I don't know what she did in my absence.  She had told me she would wash things by hand, but doesn't remember now whether she did or not.

And yes, I went to the supermarket.  As I said, we were out of everything, since i had done a fairly good job of not leaving perishables to sit and perish for 2 weeks (I missed the bananas, which were uniformly black when we got home!)

Before we left, Walt took all of our reusable bags out of the trunk, to make room for luggage and he couldn't find where he'd put them before I left, so I had to pay for paper bags.  I told the checker that in this town, which is so ecologically conscious, I felt like I should be wearing a shirt that said "Really!  I DO have reusable bags at home!"  But nobody tossed anything at me while I was accompanying my paper bags to the car.

I normally refuse help with taking groceries to the car because I'm always afraid I will be embarrassed to admit I'm not sure where I left the car.  But, still stiff and sore from the trip, and knowing EXACTLY where I parked the car, I accepted the offer of help.

Only it turns out I did NOT remember where I had parked the car.  Fortunately, I knew I had parked next to one of the "return the cart here" racks, and found it easily enough, but yes, I was embarrassed to stride confidently into the parking lot only to discover that I didn't know where my car was after all!


All she wants for Christmas is her 2 front teeth!


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