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![]() Personal blog of christian
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(No Title)One thing about my mom: her mind--and especially her memory for details--is intact. An unfortunate series of medical mishaps over the past four months led my mother to decide to move into an assisted-living place this past weekend. If asked to list all the experiences that led to this decision, she could give you an accurate, minute-by-minute, chronologically ordered account of her travails. Since Saturday afternoon's move, she could tell you exactly what time her phone service got hooked up, when she first met Ginger, one of the head nurses, and that fellow-resident Jean has two sons, one of whom lives in Norway. No one knows why, not even Jean. Mom and I met a lovely woman, Bea, during Mom's first breakfast in the dining room. Mom learned Bea's whole life story over one meal. Later that afternoon, I dropped Mom at the main door while I went to park the car. "There's Bea up on the patio," she said, and she walked up to join her. By the time I got there, the two of them had chatted. "Bea doesn't remember me from this morning," Mom said, almost as if her feelings were hurt. "Well," I said, as philosophically as I could, "that WAS a long time ago." I looked down at my watch, and my mother looked at her own. "Oh, yes," Mom said, "it was a VERY long time ago." Bea smiled, clearly vindicated by our ability to tell time. So much--and yet so little--happens in the course of any given day. May my mom's given days be filled with the joy of remembering, and may Bea know the peace of those who forget.
Posted by Katy on 06/25/02 at 05:29 PM
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