Long time no write. And I still don't have any time to write...but I'll give you 5 minutes, cause honestly, life is a blur...
So: Sally, my mom: in the home, doesn't remember where she lives, really (when we bring her here, she goes up to her old room to go to bed, then evinces surprise that there's no bed), and when we remind her where she lives, she says she has no recollection of that. Can't remember what her room looks like in the place she currently lives. Can't remember nothing, baby.
Anthony's mother Doris: really just doesn't remember anything at this point. Anthony goes to visit her and she doesn't know who he is, that he's her son. She asks who he is, and when he tells her, she just morphs into deciding that he's her brother...from way back into her childhood. And they sit and chat about little things she did with her brother when she was 10.
My son, Alex: just turned 17. We all went to celebrate his milestone at my mother's place last Friday. We arrived around 4:30 and my mother was already seated in the dining room there, ready to eat, having totally forgotten that we were all supposed to eat together in the "private" dining room they have, which is used for just such family celebrations.
So luckily we stopped her from filling her face (which, unfortunately, we were not able to do on her birthday recently, and by the time we arrived at 5pm then to take her out for dinner to celebrate her 93rd, she'd not only already eaten her fill,, but was long done and looking for seconds. We took her out for a big glass of wine, anyway).
So last Friday, we ate dinner - her, me, Anthony, my 17-year-old son and my 14-year-old daughter, just picture it. The kids are extremely polite, but spent some time peeking at their smart phones under the table, and please realize that everything we utter is unintelligible to my mother (you have to yell for her to hear you), so she asks us to repeat virtually every word we speak. And if we tell her she doesn't know the people we are talking about, it doesn't matter. She insistently wants to know what we said. We tell her (yelling). And then she says: "Oh. I don't know who you are talking about."
Just picture it.
And then Alex opened the gift "from her." I bought it, wrapped it, and gave her the card to sign, five minutes before dinner. All on her instructions, and believe you me, I got those instructions a hundred times.
Watching this, after signing the card, and having asked at least the hundred times in the preceding week whether I'd bought the gift and wrapped it on her behalf, my mother announced: "who's birthday is it?"
Alex looked at her, and bless his heart, paused for only a second and then told her it was his, and thanks for the gift.
Over the next ten minutes of dessert, this scene repeated over and over. She wanted to know how old he was turning (17, every time), what he got from her (well, look grannie, I'm wearing it, it's a hockey jersey!) and oops, when she looked away for a sec to get another cup of coffee...... it started all over.
"So. Alex, you are turning 16 today!" she would crow.
"Seventeen, granny," he'd gently remind her.
"He's getting so tall," she'd announce to me. "What did I get him?"
"This hockey jersey," Alex would intone.
Repeat. Over and over, and over.
So, that's it for now. Thankfully, for all of us.