You just gotta laugh. It's so hard when you're with mom but some of the stuff she says is so funny. She expresses herself in funny ways. My sister took care of her on New Years and has been sending me texts (cause this is how you get through the day) and here were some of the highlights:
Mom: Why can't we go to lunch in the dining room? When I explained she added: "it doesn't matter. They just want to get their pictures in the paper. As far as I'm concerned, they can just go 'splat' against the windows.
Mom: "Did you know that the guy who sells us insurance [she means our family attorney] has moved to Carmel? He used our money to do that, you know. I think you ought to be our attorney. Do you have any more questions for me?"
Mom: "I guess this is just like wartime; you can't count on anybody to rescue you, you just have to take care of yourself."
Mom: "And, I should be across the bay, having a party, but you kids wouldn't take me there."
All of these comments are shorthand for things that we've come to know. Her friends lived across the bay. Mom didn't go to the dining for a party last month, and they put a slideshow of photos of those who did go on the monitor in the hallway and she lost her shit about it. She doesn't want my sister to go home, so that's the reason for the wartime comment.
This week I re-read "Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant?" by Roz Chast. Wanted to see where I was on the Chast scale. I relate to so much more of that book than I did when I read it before. It's a thing, for sure.
No comments:
Post a Comment