The Hunt for Red October

If you’re a fan of the movie, you’ll get it. If not, trust me. In the wake of the Alzheimer’s Association calling APS regarding my mother’s driving, I called her and suggested that she walk on to the ferry (rather than drive) and I’d pick her up at the mainland terminal and chauffeur her to her mainland home. She liked the idea a lot. It’s become apparent that making the drive (an hour plus) is far from her most comfortable  activity.

In the wake of this change of M.O. mom seems to have slipped. She spent the last three days worrying about leaving my late father at home on his own for the four days she anticipates being gone. She doesn’t recall that she’s spent time away from her Island home many times since dad’s passing for far more than four days at a go. When I pointed this out to her, I was duly schooled as to my misconception. Further, she said she didn’t think she could leave unless both she and dad could come over. Of course I said this was just fine. 

Last night she asked me: We were both with Dad when he died, right?” I confirmed that we were, all of us were. She said she intellectually knows this and understands she’s crossing a line. Then she asked me, “Am I crazy.” Without directly answering her question I said I knew she felt dad’s presence very strongly and gave her a true and amusing example of my own spiritual connection to my late former husband, who at times kicks my ass from the passenger seat of my high performance car (that used to be his) when I drive it like a granny. The difference is that I don’t throw an extra sausage in the pan at dinner time for my ex. Mom is still cooking for dad. I’ve booked the appointment with the neurologist (for mom ;->) for Tuesday.