She is changing; and it frightens me. Again I have to adapt to these new behaviors, I have to change, because she is changing.
Her sentences are mostly gone. Her word-finding is spotty.
What struck me yesterday is her non-response when people talk to her. There is no conversation, not even a grunt or smile or nod. As if she doesn't know/remember that when you talk to someone, they should talk back. She gives me a hollow expression, an unsure stare, a lost-in-space glare.
I slipped her repaired glasses onto her face, she brightened up, realizing that she could see better. Then she knit her brow and stared at me. I think she was asking "Why did you have my glasses? Why did you take them off my face?" She didn't even realize she was without her glasses for the past two days. So unlike her screaming and crying in June, when she was without her glasses for the first time. (Unfortunately, her old glasses didn't hold up long enough for me to get the repaired new glasses back to her.)
The activities leader came over and said Hi. She greeted Mom with warm words. She looked at me sadly and told me that Mom is not singing anymore.
Last summer we talked about Hurricane Irene, and the huge rainstorm. Yesterday Mom wasn't even aware of the bad rains and swaying trees outside her window, from Hurricane Sandy.
We are looking through her latest issue of Yankee Magazine. I'm flipping through the pages (her fingers weren't cooperating) and pointing out and commenting on the photos. She's not really paying attention. She's not engaged in this activity. All of a sudden Mom reads "Candy House". It's a small advertizement for Mrs Nelson's Candy House.
"Yes, I remember going to Mrs Nelson's Candy House." I say brightly.
"Yes." Mom says.
"It was beside DeMoulas grocery store."
"Yes." Mom says.
"It was next to Grant's department store."
"Yes!" Mom says.
"They must be making lots of chocolate candy for Halloween."
Mom stares at me, she is lost, the conversation is over.