Distilled to her essence

Distilled to her essence.  

As I reread my accounts of living in the moment with Mom, I am struck by her enduring sense of humor.  This is from August 6, 2014. She was 95, with late-stage Alzheimer’s and very, very funny.

We sit down for our Scrabble game with my usual opening gambit.  

Hi Mom, shall I beat you at Scrabble?

She balls up her fists in mock aggression.

Noooo, I don’t think so…and I wouldn’t want to make you cry.

In the middle of the game, she was having a hard time finding a word.  

Do something that will help me. I’m very old you know.  You should help a poor old lady.

Usually when you get as old as I, you’re very intelligent.

At the end of the game, we put the board away and get ready for a walk. I ask if I can use her bathroom.  Normally she grins, puts out her hand and asks for 50 cents. This time it was 97 cents.

Shall we talk a walk? I ask.

If you think you can walk that far.

Very feisty. She enjoys the banter immensely.