But yes, I will always remember clear as the wild blue yonder that critical meeting I had with Mom and Dorothy yesterday. Mom had been becoming increasingly forgetful, not simply misplacing her glasses, but leaving the house with the stove elements on, forgetting to get in her car and drive to a dental appointment, but walking instead and ending up on the other end of the Patullo Bridge in Surrey instead of the waiting room in downtown New West. Things like that. And she was getting particularly irritable and short-tempered. And sometimes just plain irrational. I have lived in my own apartment nearby for the past seven years, but just a few days ago while visiting for dinner she asked me out of the blue, just after we sat down to eat, "Isn't it about time that you found your own place to live?" Well, now we know what's wrong. We are going to try to take care of her in place, but the doctor says the illness is advancing rather quickly on her, and it could be just a matter of months before we are going to have to have her placed somewhere...This is the season of dread.
No comments:
Post a Comment