Took my mom to a get-together with men and women who had worked with Daddy. These friends have gathered for lunch once every month or so for many years, and I am glad my mother still enjoys visiting with them. It usually falls my lot to sit beside a little lady who is possibly well into the well of alzheimer's, and who has a little trouble with her conversation. She often asks me what she likes to order, and I used to tell her Reuben sandwich, but last time she didn't like it, so I let her ask her husband, who also tells her Reuben. Again, she wasn't so thrilled with it, so I dunno... Maybe she doesn't like sauerkraut at all??? Yesterday after I had told her many, many times the little to-go box held half her Reuben sandwich, she poked me in the arm, pointed to my mom on the corner and asked, "Did that woman's husband die?" I answered her that yes, that woman's husband had passed away. "Just a month or so ago?" she asked... And I replied that, no, it was over a year ago. Then I added he was my father. She quickly apologized for talking about it to me, and she added, "You know... I am not sure anyone knows this, but I think I am beginning to forget thing a little bit." I solemnly nodded that indeed those things happen... She continued softly, "I don't really remember that woman's husband, and I don't really know her (lifelong friend), but I just have an image of "nice" when I think of them."
Oh... my.... what do I do with that? An image of "nice".... and what could be sweeter than to leave a fragrant image of that in the spirits that float in and out of our memories.... and our lack of them... I greatly fear my image will be one of "snippy," or maybe of "restlessness" or possibly "despair." I dunno.... I would maybe need to ponder and give it a bit of work... Have a good week.