I went over to my parent’s house yesterday. Sigh.
No, I didn’t check the water pitcher but poured my mother a fresh glass of water.
I also neglected to check to see if she was taking her pills – those are kept in my dad’s office. His desk is covered.
My mother wanted to walk to the beach, go out to eat, etc and so forth, on and on.
I would not indulge.
I gave her water – she has to stay hydrated and keep breathing (she is not a fan of the constant need for breaths).
She lets me take more scarves – I tell ya, this woman and her scarves.
I sit on the floor delighting in books of PG Wodehouse and Lillian Beckwith, and found authors of political persuasion. Declining my inclination to read, I put books that were alike, together.
Soon, she is standing over me. I know her territory well. She smiled and said to take anything. That she wanted to get rid of everything. But I know…I know that she doesn’t want her books to be messy.
I poked through the ever growing abundance of scarves.
She is happy. I am happy.
More cheese with that?