4 hours ago
Friday, February 6, 2009
Alzheimer’s can be a wicked thing. Meanwhile we take the good and the bad, and stave off the ugly. Amid the morass, little sparks keep shining through, but we never know from one day to the next where we truly are.
Not so long back we celebrated Christmas day as a family, together. Nonna displayed genuine surprise when she unwrapped her nightgown, double checked the gift label and then beamed. She was equally as surprised by the sexy, black lace shower cap. She pulled it on to check the size and then yanked it down over her chin, the red rosebud mid nose. I could already spot the chink of mischief that she is always only too willing to share.
But it wasn’t until later, after she disappeared into her room, that we had cause to exchange meaningful glances over tight button downed lips, because the British is still steadfast, despite an American veneer.
“Ta dah!” she announced as she flounced into the kitchen. I stood mid-baste over a steaming turkey carcass. Her son blanched but remained silent.
“Wot do you tink den?” she twinkled as she curtsied, spreading the nightgown out to the sides.
“Mum?” he bleated. Still she smiled as she managed an unsteady pirouette, “I am all dressed for luncheon……in my gown.” Her son fumbled for words as I hastily shoved the bird back into the oven, to mop my brow and regain ground. “Well…….at least it fits you…….I wasn’t quite sure what size…..” I trailed off and caught him dumbfounded out of the corner of my eye.
“Wot den?” she said as she placed both feet carefully together with an accompanying bob of expectation. “Look at im! Gawd wot a face,” she chuckled, “I am pull your leg, you silly goose.”