Mom sometimes peers down the table to make sure that what is on her plate matches what is on our plates. She doesn’t want to miss out on anything, especially not anything food-related.
A few weeks ago, I noticed her looking back and forth, trying to see around the napkin holder and salt shaker and down the table. Since ‘We’ve got the exact same things on our plates as you have on your plate’ is too long and complicated a sentence to try without using the whiteboard, and it was across the kitchen, I made a point of noticing she was looking, and said, “What?”
“Nothing–I’m just counting rabbits. One-two-three-four. Five! Betcha didn’t know I could count that high!” And then she laughed.
Our Easter tablecloth is very busy (part of the reason for the new medication strategy I mentioned yesterday), and it is well past Easter, but I still see her counting rabbits at dinnertime. I guess it can stay on the table awhile longer.
I’ve been keeping a morning journal for years, and after filling up ones that ranged in price from $10 to $20 each, I started buying the inexpensive composition books that can be had for as little as 50¢ during Back To School sales, and making collages on the covers.
I started this one, specifically about Mom, in April 2015, so I could note any changes in behavior or physical capacity and have an accurate record for discussing with her medical team at her check-ups.
Here’s one of the first entries:
Saturday evening before Easter, at dinner, Mom says, “Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. Now, is that Jesus’ birthday?”
“No, Mom. Christmas is Jesus’ birthday. Easter is when he rose from his tomb.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
It was really quite strange for me, as I have become more agnostic/Buddhist, heathen, even, to explain a basic Christian belief to the mother who never took me to church.
At that time, this conversation seemed remarkable, but now, it would be just another day.