The Unpleasant Surprise

Today I took Mom on "an adventure" as she called it. It really wasn't such an adventure, but rather, a trip to the local diner and then to the audiologist for hearing tests and checks on her hearing aids. En route to the diner (Mom's favorite place to eat out) I drove past the house that I grew up in--the house that Mom lived in for 45 years, first with our entire family, and then finally, just with my uncle up to 7 years ago. I stopped in the driveway and the following ensued:

Mom: " Why are we stopping here? Who lives here?"

Me: " This is your old house."

Mom: " Are you sure?"

Me: "Yes, I'm sure--remember sitting on the front porch? You lived upstairs and Uncle Frank and Aunt Sylvia lived downstairs."

Mom ( with a blank look on her face and a shrug of her shoulders): I really don't remember this at all."

Ahhhh-- yet another unpleasant surprise as part of the ongoing changes that occur all too often. Slowly but surely the threads of our shared past are unraveling. The woman with the most wonderful memory can't recall the house where she raised her children and sat Shiva for her father and husband. I can live happily without more surprises like this one!

And yet, the rest of the day was successful--we lunched and talked briefly and took care of the hearing aids that have not been functioning correctly for quite a long time--in all, an okay day if I can forget what she has already forgotten.