For the Love of God, Please Return Your Teeth to Your Mouth

The plan was to visit at Christmas time. That had been the plan since I’d left Mom from the summer visit. The visit where everything changed. The visit where we traversed new ground, doing our best to navigate the pathways of life with an elderly matriarch in a nursing home, and the navigation of deciphering what neural pathways in her mind were dead ends. Dead ends made newly dead by the day it seemed. Patience with repetition. Watching a mind go slowly backward in time from an 86 year old to approximately 4… and then 2 and slowly to the sleeping baby.

“Mom, say Hi!”


“Say Hi to Fleur”

“Hi to Fleur.”

The exact type of teaching you might hear at a family gathering parading the newest toddler around the room. Just at the sweet spot where they repeat everything you say.

Once leaving the summer visit we had communicated by telephone. Some days she called on the speed dial (consulting with the note on her side table with what numbers associated to which offspring.) Sometimes the ca…

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