March 20, 2013–one tough cookie

It had been a week since I saw her last.  A friend and I spent a few days in the Great Smokies last weekend.  Sunday morning, 6:30 a.m., I got a call from Whispering Pines saying she had fallen in the bathroom and hit her head.  They were sending her to the emergency room.

Yikes.  What to do?  I was three hours away. I called a friend in Athens who visits her regularly and asked if I could give his name and number as a local contact.  He agreed, and I uneasily went back to bed, waiting to hear if I needed to pack up and return home early.

By mid-morning we had gotten the all-clear.  She had been x-rayed head to toe.  Nothing was broken, so they were sending her back.  Late that afternoon I phoned and talked with her.  She didn’t remember anything that had happened that morning.

I had her home for supper tonight.  She was talkative and affable, just very confused.  Wanted to know if I had had my house built last year.  How far was it from Sheldon Road? (in Berea, OH)  Where was it I live again?  You mean she lived with me here? Really?

Three times this evening I asked her if she knew who I am.

“Of course, you’re Tina.”

“And WHO am I?”

“You’re my cousin, Reuben Parker’s daughter.”

“No, Reuben Parker was your step father.  I never met him.”

“Then who is your father?”

“Jack Freeman was my father.”

“Oh.  I married him, didn’t I?  Wonder what happened to him.”

“He died six years ago.”

“He did? I didn’t know that.”

I reminded her of details about the funeral, but it was all lost to her.  She wasn’t particularly upset, just surprised.  As she often is when I tell her that her mother, grandfather, aunts, and most of her cousins are no longer alive.

“Well, how old are you?”

I told her.

“I must have had you when I was five.”  Ba-da-bing!  She was grinning at her own joke.

As I’ve said before, when the wise cracks quit, it will be time to pack up and go home.

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About estherfromolmsted

written and maintained by Tina
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