Old Roses

My mother’s favorite past time has always been people watching, I knew that since I was a boy.  She freely admits her getting a kick out of being in crowded places and just watch humanity do its thing.  Now that she’s in a senior living complex she devotes a lot of time to doing just that, so she has tales to share with me whenever I call.  I believe it gives her a continued thrill to convey the daily craziness, as well as my knowing that everyone wants to contribute something meaningful to a conversation; and isn’t that really what a relationship is all about?

  On this occasion she mentioned how often she sees one particular woman who is always dressed in bright colors, smiling and dancing down the hallways.  Each and every times she also noted that the woman is followed by an equally elderly stoic gentleman, so she presumes that must be the woman’s husband and that she must be suffering dementia.  

  As I mentioned earlier in my post of Here and Now how the living arrangements are organized in the complex, where the Alzheimer and Dementia patrons live on the first floor with easy access to the main dining room, so that it comes as no surprise that the woman lives on the main floor, and is noticed by the rest of the residents at meal times.  On this occasion my mother made it a point to go to the information desk and ask the staff member attending the desk, what was the name of the happy dancer.

  After the dancer and her husband had passed the desk my mother stealthy moved towards the attendant and whispered,

   “Excuse me dear, but what is the name of that woman with dementia” thinking that having just seen the dancer pass by the attendant would know who she was talking about.

The attendant leaned back towards my mother, and speaking in conspirators low tone replied

  “Which one?”