So I’ve been working too much lately. Personal projects, work, teaching, and eldercare. I ran out of blog posts that were written ahead when I was ill in January, so I haven’t even had a moment to write a blog post.
This weekend, after a brutal week, I organized everything so that I could go to Breadsmith Sunday, pick up a treat, and show up at the folk’s with a treat so we could have a visit for Mother’s day.
Yes, I know Sunday wasn’t Mother’s day. I know that now!
I discovered my mistake when I came home and called my folks. Dad answered. I said, “I’m calling to wish Mom a Happy Mother’s Day!” He replied, “It isn’t Mother’s Day today.”
Well we had a good chat (all three of us) and a lot of laughs at my expense, all deserved.
It’s just that I’ve had my nose to the computer for so many weeks that when I was catching up on one of my TV shows and saw an ad for Mother’s day I assumed it was the 7th.
The great thing about this mistake is that my folks who don’t have dementia can laugh with and at me about it.
And Dick’s folks, who are having a particularly hard time with dementia right now (Phyllis asked me where her parents were and was surprised when I told her they were both dead for some decades now) didn’t know if it was or wasn’t Mother’s Day today and we had a great visit, with MUFFINS! (OK and brownies too. Which were the biggest hit, note to self.)
They won’t mind one bit when I show up in a couple days without treats (though I always take a couple pieces of chocolate). And they won’t be at all confused next Sunday when we do this all over again.
I could inhabit a “groundhog’s day” universe where we celebrated every day. That’s a thought.