…washcloths! Yesterday, amid the Pillowcase Mystery, I found a note asking for washcloths from one of the aides. Mom gets a shower every day, and there were only a couple, not enough for every day. Of course I couldn’t remember to buy them. But today, on the way to Bickford, I decided to stop at Target and get two packs of washcloths–12 for $2.99, and pack for Mom and for Dad–which I did, planning to mark each washcloth with their room numbers. Perhaps they will be returned from trips to the laundry! Mom has a Sharpie permanent marker, which I used for labeling and discovered something: it’s very hard to write on terrycloth! But I persevered, and each of them now have 12 washcloths with big ugly numerals on them, nevertheless, I felt a great, foolish satisfaction.
A footnote to yesterday’s events: I found 2 pillowcases wadded up on one of the chairs in the room when I came in. Har!
Mom was on the bed, half asleep, as she often is when I come in. The pillow was over her face, which I think was to keep the light out of her eyes. She sleeps a lot now, probably in part because she is getting more sedation to control anxiety. We can’t leave her as frightened as she has been a couple of times, but then, unsurprisingly, she is sleepy. Were I in her shoes, I’d rather be sleepy than scared–take note, family! I asked if she would like to go to the hymn sing, and she said yes, sort of to my surprise. It is a good thing to do with her; she harmonizes, and can at least vocalize the tune if she doesn’t know the words. We sang “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” and leaned from side to side and bumped shoulders and she had a great time–me too, seeing her pleasure. I was amused when the leader, who plays the guitar, asked me to sing a solo, the first time ever for me! But what the heck, the audience was perfect. Most couldn’t find the page for the hymn, and if they did, couldn’t read or sing along–I didn’t think they’d be too picky. I chose a song that it turned out the leader couldn’t play, so I just kept singing, accompanied by the wrong chords. It occurred to me that this was perfect, in a way, considering the Alice-in-Wonderland quality of the land I and my parents occupy these days.