Small things

So it’s Sunday evening again and I sit among the flotsam and jetsam of Tuesday Morning shopping bags crammed with everything I took with me on my last move.  Which are not only my things but inexplicable random items from both my Mom and Dad.

In reality I was and am rummaging around for two rings I lost on my last move.  Part of me vainly hopes they will resurface…voila!  In the bedroom of the community do I was in for a few more ths.  But as three days and weeks drag by I have to face facts….they are gone. Gone lime the gold wedding gown band now somewhere in the Atlantic having been carried there by the currents of the Chattahoochee .  Gone like the ruby and diamond ring I lost in the Y swimming pool while doing  rehab after back surgery.  I guess you could say gold and rubies and I aren’t good for each other.

So instead I find a red velvet Christmas stocking we gave Dad last year during  his stay in a rehab facility after he nearly died of pneumonia, COPD exacerbation and delirium.  It’s empty except for a gold crown ornament and three probably rotten Hershey kisses.  It’s the kiss3s that undo me.

Such a little thing.  Like we think we couldn’t have given it to him.  Like the glass of wine we denied him at Mom’s Luau party during which she sat wordless and uncomprehending.  He not knowing the extreme fragility of his aging brain still so close to the memory care unit where women wandered into his room and curled up on his bed.  Where we had to use an electronic fob to check him out of the memory care elevator and on whose wall was a sign stating “for the safety of our residents please do not let memorycare patients on the elevator without a staff or family member.”

Every time we got on the elevator we all had to read that sign.

Then I find a little red tomato pincushion of Mom’s.  I can’t beat to look at it any more than I can beat to acknowledge that they have lived apart for over two years now. It can’t be helped.  He doesn’t want to move to her home, watch them wipe her chin and have one sided conversations with her.

Today we went to a car show. He and I enjoyed seeing the huge array of immaculate old.model T’s, Porsche, Ferrari mini Coopers, and on and on. How he felt looking at them and what he thought of them is anybody’s guess.  What memories of his youth….maybe one day he will share them.

But today after 45 minutes he was tired having walked less than 15 feet.  We sweated in the 90 degree heat waiting on our Uber. We had an excellent brunch and retired to his apartment so he could work on his novel.

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