Generally our phone conversations run along the same generic lines–
Me: What’s new?
Her: Nothing. I’m bored.
Me: What’re you having for lunch?
Her: I don’t know. We’ll probably open a can of soup.
Me: Is the sun shining by you?
Her: I haven’t looked out the window.
Me: What’s dad doing?
Her: Probably getting into some trouble.
Dull and boring chatter between a mom with Alzheimer’s and her daughter who shamefully all too quickly tires of the Ground Hog Day phone calls. I know I should cherish just hearing her voice.
Sometimes, however, she blurts out random stuff that cracks me up.
She might recall something clever her mother said. (Or may have said.)
Or she’ll tell me about something new she purchased. (Or forgot she had.)
Or she’ll make up a song. Last week she sang this one:
“Look for a book. Under a tree. Where the dogs go pee.”
Her mind must have been alert because she then came up with a few knee-slapping comments:
“Your father is a dependable mess.”
“I get drunk when I breathe.”
“We have our secrets. But I can’t remember what they are.”
She was laughing.
I was laughing.
I’m not sure if it was a laugh of release or a laugh of recognition. We shared a good long har-de-haha, though. After a moment of silence when I thought her mind had wandered into the abyss, her quick wit reemerged and she quipped:
“We’ll just keep them to ourselves.”
What a wise cracker!
I couldn’t make this stuff up.
Mom and Me.