When I arrived at Mom's room at 3:45 pm, I found her telling stories with delight and great animation to two caregivers, Susan and Christina.
She sat in her wheelchair talking and laughing, her pink face full of life and joy.
They stood there watching her and laughing at her tales about her husband.
"So you enjoyed your husband. He was a good man. Here's Anne," they said finally after I watched for a few moments.
"Yes, and she's the product!" Mom exclaimed.
She wanted to go out and get French fries, to do something.
I'd been planning to take her to my house, in case my kids might be around for her to enjoy, but then I decided just to wheel her to the local deli to get French fries, as well as pick up that tube of Calmoseptine I'd reserved at the medical products store.
But as we were going out the door, my daughter Roz called on my cell phone. I wanted to talk to her, so I kept talking while pushing the wheelchair to Wilshire. Whenever I paused and just stood at an intersection talking, Mom demanded to know where we were going and why, so I pushed her to Von's, bought some kitchen waste bin liners, walked to the health store which had closed a half hour earlier, and went to the deli.
I tried to put the cell phone to her ear for her to listen and talk to Roz, but it didn't work. She doesn't hear phones or cell phones well any more.
Finally I ended the conversation, got the fries, and wheeled her back to her residence.
There she was happy to go to dinner and wanted to share her French fries with everyone.
I was able to leave without great angst on her part or mine.
A good day, but when I got home and found that two of my daughters were home, I wished I had brought her here to enjoy talking with them.