You've Got A Brand New Key

Mom seemed less depressed on Sunday. She did spend much of the day napping... but at least there was less anxiety. When I arrived in the morning at about nine thirty, she sounded perky when she greeted me. We chatted a little bit, she offered me some coffee, then I just sat and read while the television lured her back into sleep.

After about an hour of that, she asked if I'd like to read to her, and so for the next hour I did, and sadly, we finished the Wharton autobiography. I gave her a late lunch, of which she ate very little, and Dad called around quarter of one to say he was on his way back.

I had considered staying home from my afternoon gig that day, but once I saw that Mom was somewhat "okay," I decided to go after all, and I'm glad I did because it was a great day at our jam.

I took Monday morning off, then went over late afternoon, around two-thirty. Dad's car was out of the garage when I got there, and Mom was napping in her chair. She greeted me pleasantly enough, and I asked her what she had been doing all day.

"This is pretty much it."

So, I got her up. We walked around the dining room table ten times, I washed the breakfast/lunch dishes and had her dry them and put them away. Dad came home with groceries and mail, just as I was making some tea, and he joined us for tea after bringing in some more firewood from outside.

Then Mom decided she wanted to go outside for a walk. At first Dad and I were skeptical about that idea, because there is snow and ice on the driveway, but she insisted, so I told her she had to change into her rubber soled boots and bundle up. She agreed to that. I changed her shoes for her, helped her put on her warmest winter jacket and button her up, wrapped a big scarf around her and plopped the big white fuzzy hat on her, and she put on her fuzzy black gloves.

We took note of the time together - it was three fourteen - and off we went, out to the icy, windy outdoors. We walked up the road a bit, then back down around. She likes to sing a song that's on a television commercial a lot these days, "Oh ~ I've got a brand new pair of roller skates, you've got a brand new key.." and that's all we know, so we hum the rest.

I tried to keep her out as long as possible, but she got cold and restless, so in the house we went.

It was three twenty one when we got back in.

"Seven minutes, Mom. Not bad."

"We're back!" she yelled down to Dad in the basement. "We were out for seven minutes!"

With a little color in her cheeks, we undressed her again, changed out of her boots back into her sandals. Dad came back upstairs and turned the television over to Turner Classic Movies, where a funny old movie called "All Night Long," a black and white picture from 1962 was playing. It featured jazz musicians and I found it very groovy. The plot was hard to follow, though, and soon Mom wanted to "sleep" again. So we propped her up on the little couch and she rested some more.

Sigh.

Tomorrow, we still plan to attend the local Alzheimer's support luncheon and discussions, just after Mom finishes her weekly bath with Maria.