Please make it stop.

I’m home. My trip was long, boring and totally uneventful. Hubby picked me up at the station at around 7 p.m. and fed me and made me feel loved. I confessed that what scares me most about going down the same dementia path as my mom is that I don’t want to put Little Princess and Buddy Boy through what I am experiencing right now. My Faceb00k status today was: Elgan fears senility more than she fears death.

Now I have a whole bunch of tasks ahead of me for tomorrow. I have to write to people whose letters were on my mom’s coffee table, relatives for the most part who really have no idea what state my mother is in. I need to get in touch with the retirement residence staff to find out where my mother’s kettle has disappeared to and suggest that she be taken to the optometrist to get new glasses and to find out if it’s time yet for her semi-annual visit to the ophthalmologist. I need to write her Filipino visitor to ask her to bring several boxes of tissues when she comes next as well as the shampoo she mentioned. And I have to call the librarian for the symphony who is still bugging me about enlarging the score pages for Hubby’s piece.

I want to go to sleep for a month.

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