Tuesdays and Thursdays after work are visit Mom days. (we'll just see how long this lasts)
She was in the "Family Living Room" with several others listening to a man with a great voice sing songs; she was right up front. I found a chair in the foyer and let her enjoy the show.
As I sat writing a text message to myself with all the juicy tidbits for this blog post, several residents stopped by to say howdy.
First there was a woman we'll call Dixie, who has never spoken to me before. She is very busy, always walking the halls and trying to get into rooms. She has the same I-must-carry-fabric-at-all-times thing my mother has and had either an apron or a tablecloth wadded up in her arms. (Mom prefers the smaller and more versatile table napkin.)
Dixie also likes to move things - furniture type things - and wrestled a small side table from next to the finch cage into the living room (a different one than the family living room). She speaks very softly and I did not understand her when she spoke to me, but she appeared to be satisfied with my response (such as it was) and proceeded with her table wrestling.
While all this was going on, somewhere down the hall a man kept repeating, "Where do I go now? I'm waiting for someone to show me where to go. I don't know where to go."
Mr. Singer had moved on from "America The Beautiful" to "Hello Dolly". Mom was enthusiastic about that one, "Alright! Yes!"
My next visitor was a tall thin man wearing a woven cowboy hat. We'll call him Duane. Duane said, "Hello darling. Look to the records to see what it's like." Alrighty. About a minute later (time enough to walk to the end of the hall and back), Duane popped back around the corner and asked if I "knew what I was kerning." When I replied that I did not, he said "Well I hope you don't!"
Mr. Singer's selections were nothing if not varied. "Amazing Grace" on the piano, followed by "Your Cheating Heart". HA! Who needs a stinkin' segue?! Not these folks.
Mom introduced me to Mr. Singer as "Mommy" - SNAFU. Yeah.
We toddled off to her room, talked about her new shoes she was wearing ("I don't know where they came from.").
We agreed that she was goofy ("I always have been, you know that."); admired a pillow that wasn't hers and then went down to the dining room for dinner. Dixie had left a wet paper towel tucked in the wreath on Mom's door.
Thursday's only a day away - let's break out the booze and have a ball.