Visiting my parents has settled down a lot since late Oct./early Nov. Mostly everything is fine–though the smell in Mom’s room continues to be discouraging–and I stay, and read about puppies with Mom, and chat with Dad about birds and the olden days, and then I go home. A great relief. Yesterday, I pulled the album of letters given to my parents from their family on the occasion of their 50th anniversary, and read some of the letters to Mom. She enjoyed it more than I thought she would; she laughed, nodded in remembrance, and seemed in many ways like herself, also a blessing to me.
When I got up to leave, I told her I had some shopping to do. She thought a moment, then said, “I haven’t been out from [here she spun her hand in a circle. "Bickford?" I asked. She nodded.]…and I think I could do it and just wait in…..”the car?”…YES,” she said, and looked at me so hopefully and innocently, and my heart ached just a little because I couldn’t take her. I was going to shop in the mall, for at least an hour, and it was COLD to wait in the car. And leave her in the car for an hour? Uh-uh. Doubtless Mom was remembering times when I’ve taken her and made several little errand stops–dry cleaner, return a book to the library, get some milk at Kroger’s–and wanted to do that. How I wanted to scoop her up and take her, but since I couldn’t, I promised to take her with me soon. Friday I will come up with some quick errands (there are always some lurking), and also take her out for waffles. Sorry Dad. This is a girls only trip.
I love you, Mom.