The sitter had said that Dad sometimes doesn't know who his wife is. I didn't know that. At lunchtime Tuesday he came tottering through the living room taking his plate back to the kitchen. Mom was sitting in her chair eating. Dad said, "That white-haired woman is eating the same thing she ate last year."
As I was cooking breakfast, Dad decided to go out and start the mower. Just before starting the eggs, I heard the beep beep beep of the mower. For a doddering old man, he can be slicker than snot at times. So I stopped breakfast prep and went out back to the workshop. He was determined to not hear me that day, too; I ended up just having to take the key out of the mower. He knows the tire is flat, but he thinks there's nothing wrong with running the mower.
Of course, taking the key made him furious. I had to just walk away. There was no communicating with him; staying wouldn't have done anyone any good. It was rude as hell but kinder on a different level. I'll have to keep the key until the tire's fixed. It will worry him no end until it's done.
Aunt Agnes came over in the afternoon for a nice visit with Mother. I left them in the living room for their visit and tended to the planters on the patio. Maybe turning the soil daily for a few days will kill off the weeds.
On Wednesday during breakfast, Dad got up and went to the bathroom. On his way back he went into the kitchen and got himself a glass of orange juice. I suppose the one by his breakfast needed a companion.
Mother wasn't going to get up herself today. So I got her up about 2:00 p.m. I found her upper teeth on her bedside table - took them to the bathroom to be cleaned. Got her up and in the living room and asked for her bottom teeth. She didn't have them. Lordy, more lost teeth. I finally found them at the bottom of the box of tissues she keeps on her bed, and which she knocked off onto the floor last night. Whew! I went to clean them, but Dad had snuck into the bathroom before me. After 15 minutes, he came out; I cleaned the teeth, put fixative on them, gave them to her and poured her milk in her cereal. It was no more than 2 minutes later that the bottom ones popped out again. Sigh.
Dad wandered through the living room a couple of times tonight making random statements. I didn't write them down at the time so don't remember them. One of them, though, was to tell us where the cat was sitting. Tonight I took him a slice of cake and a glass of milk. He so very kindly offered the milk to the cat to drink out of first. This from the man who would not let me have an indoor pet as a child. I snatched and grabbed to keep the cat's tongue that had previously licked its butt out of Dad's milk.
In the middle of eating his cake, I heard the door to outside open. So I went to check on him. He was peeing off the side of the patio. Thank goodness the neighbors go to bed by 9:00 p.m. What is it with men and peeing off porches?! My low-class friends have no problem with it, but my Dad wouldn't have done that for a million dollars.
About 15 minutes later, he came into the living room with an empty cake plate and a full glass of milk. He asked me where it came from and told me nobody would take the milk because the cat got into it first.
I thought he was going to bed, but he snuck out into the garage while I wasn't looking. He'd gotten the outside light to come on somehow, and it's on a sensor switch. He was trying to turn it off. I got him inside and thought I had him directed to bed. He sat down on Mom's footstool instead. He picked up a letter from my cousin Lynn, looked at the return address and asked who that was. Mom told him it was Van's daughter. He asked who Van was. In short, it was a letter from my cousin who is Mom's brother's daughter. Dad didn't know who any of them were. He told Mom to throw it away. I asked him why, and he replied that someone had to throw things away around here. Snort. Like that's his forte.
Then he got up and decided something had gotten behind a decorative plate Mom has hanging on the wall. He pulled it off the wall and looked at it, muttered and tried to hang it back up. He couldn't do it, so I offered to do it for him. He didn't believe I could, so I just slid it over the hook. He chuckled. Amazing.
For the last few nights, Dad has stayed up way late for him. Last night it was just after 9:00. Tonight it was 10:20 p.m. For months on end it was 8:00 p.m. religiously. I have no idea what has changed for him. If he'd get up later, I'd be all glad about it. He doesn't, though; he just keeps getting up at 7:30. With Mom staying up until midnight, it's difficult,