Small Talk

The black cell phone case

November 23rd, 2015

My poor mom. The Alzheimers gets worse. She now doesn't remember my daughter Olivia's name. "Who is this pretty little girl? What's your name?" Popo asked Olivia upon first arriving.

We had a big family get together recently and my cousin and my dad have the same first name, Paul. Cousin Paul wanted a photo of my mother, me, and Olivia.

The three of us were standing there waiting for the photo and my mother kept getting distracted or confused. We kept saying, "Look there. Look at Paul."

Then I realized she was looking for my dad, who wasn't in the room at that moment. So I started pointing, "Look at that black phone. Look at that black thing." (She certainly has no idea what a cell phone is.)

"What?" she exclaimed at my manners. "That's not nice. He's our relative."

Huh? Then it dawned on me that she thought I was calling Paul a "black thing." I mean, he is deeply tanned, but no.

It's funny how the mind works with Alzheimers - what gets remembered and what doesn't. It's a grab bag.

So there's still room for humor in life, even in the sadness.

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