Because I had Covid, we shifted my dates to visit mom, pushing everything back a week. Part of the plan is for mom and me to meet my brother Eric in Cape May for lunch. Originally planned for Tuesday, December 27, we moved it to Tuesday, January 3, which is my birthday.
My mom is having trouble keeping track of the dates, deleting the old ones and adding the new ones. Mom has always kept a careful calendar. She uses a big paper one she gets from some insurance agency. The last time I was there, seeing it made me tear up. Some notes were right side up but some were sideways, or upside down. Something that should be on one date was written across two.
Eric said that when he and Mom talked on Christmas, she remembered lunch with him in January but forgot that I was coming, too.
As I look out my big window, it’s snowing small pale grey flecks, like a speckled snowy fog, not a pretty one. It’s like that inside my mom’s head. Forgetting me isn’t personal. It’s snowing.
Chewing the Cud of Good
Thankful I get to see my brother!
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