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.


About estherfromolmsted

written and maintained by Tina
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