Mom was doing ok today. I stopped by a little earlier - around 5:30 - and she was in the main room, and still eating her dinner, although most of the other residents had finished. She was wearing her pajamas.
'Hi Mom - you're wearing your night clothes to dinner?'
"Yes. And I'm not even going to tell you what these people are doing to me. Accusing me of taking clothes. I don't take anyone's clothes...they go into my room and take my clothes and just put them on the floor. I sure as hell wouldn't do that."
Oh boy. I just changed the subject and asked about her meals, and her day. 'Did you get to go outside today?'
"No, I was too busy washing clothes. I had to wash all of their clothes too, and that just isn't fair or right. And I'm not lying to you. I swear it really happened."
Alrighty. She asked me about my day, and about what kind of work I do, and then out of the blue - "We had to get rid of one of the dogs today."
'Oh really? Which dog, Mom?'
"Jaymz's dog. The one he chose from Aunt Bea." There are so many things mixed up in that statement it wasn't even worth deciphering. I sat for awhile just observing the other residents. It is really interesting to hear them try to communicate with each other sometimes, each in their own little worlds. Then I asked whether she would rather watch TV out in the main room, or a movie in her room. She was a little snippety about preferring to go back to her room.
I went back to her room with her, put in Coach Carter, and told her I would see her tomorrow.
She seemed a little teary/sad, but said "Ok honey. It's always great to see you. Thanks for coming."
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