My Little Mommy got upset this morning when she realized that she had forgotten my Dad's birthday on Saturday. (He was born on October 11 and he passed away on July 9, 1990.) Looking back I realize that she always mentions it and says Happy Birthday aloud to him.
She's 86 now and it still sharp and sarcastic and witty so it was unexpected to hear her tell me about this.
She framed her forgetting his birthday around the slippery slope to Alzheimer's and began crying. She doesn't cry often so I hugged her and kissed the top of her head (5'0" tall) and stayed close to her until she felt a wee bit better. Some of you may remember me mentioning that she's not much of a hugging, kissing person so it's a little awkward when I do that to her because she doesn't react or reciprocate.
Losing her memory has always been her greatest fear. Do we all fear it that strongly when we're older?
I'm fixing a big dinner tonight for us. I thought that would be nice. So, who wants meatloaf, mashed potatos, green beans, and apple cobbler?