I hadn't seen Deloris in over two weeks, I think.  The first week was inertia and then I was ambushed by some alien bug, which laid me low (well -- bed height anyway) for about 10 days.  Not CoVid; not the flu. Just congestion, coughing, sneezing, and exhaustion.  Better now.  I had no idea what to expect when I saw Deloris.  I hadn't received any phone calls from the medical staff, so that's always a good sign! 

Charmaine, the receptionist, greeted me with a smile, some junk mail, and broken glass on a picture frame with picture of Deloris and me in it.  Accidentally knocked off the table and onto the floor.  I thanked her; asked her to hold everything until I left and I would take them all with me.  A quick check with her and Kathleen, the Big Boss Lady (BBL -- she's the care facility director) confirmed the absence of any news/changes with Deloris.  Good.

She was sitting at a table at the back of the dining room, a book, cookie, and glass of lemonade in front of her.  Everything she likes, well almost everything; not a bad way to spend a Thursday afternoon.  She looked up and smiled when I sat down next to her.  I showed her a Mothers' Day card that her daughter had sent.  As  I was opening it, Deloris asked if her daughter's name was also "Ament."  Some memory connections, however faulty, are being made.  Celeste's last name was never Ament; I read from the return address the name "Hammack."  New last name; new husband, which I was told some months ago.  Deloris read the card and then gave it back to me, showing no more interest. Since this is the manner in which Deloris relates to most things, other than perhaps a multi-paged magazine -- that just takes a little longer to peruse, absent intriguing photographs, the reaction had no deeper meaning to me.  I could tell Deloris appreciated receiving the card and having that connection with her daughter.  Then it was back to the present! 

We spent some time going through the book Deloris had been looking at.  It was a book about crafting with buttons.  Pictures, instructions, parts lists for about fifty craft ideas.  Nothing I want to live with or do; Deloris, the part with some remaining aesthetic sense, was unimpressed as well. It was something to look at and ponder, each in our own way.  One section of the book impressed me, however.  Some insomniac from a small town in Mississippi (are there any other kind there?) started putting buttons onto various objects.  A car, a hearse, several suits, wallets.  Hundreds of thousands of buttons and at least hundreds of hours.  I guess everyone needs a hobby.  

I had brought an interior designer magazine which a friend had given me for Deloris. We spent some time looking at the pictures, me wondering aloud how anyone could live like that with some spreads and expressing pleasure with others.  And I guess that's why there are different styles. A little insight into other cultures, other lifestyles.  Not Whidbey Island-style.

As the dining room began to fill with other residents and the sing-along faded out after a couple of songs -- no one interested this afternoon, I said goodbye, swapped kisses, and headed back to Freeland.

It was a pleasant visit.  Deloris was focused and seemed aware.  Her responses were appropriate and indicated understanding.  Overall energy of the visit and the ambience in the room was light and easy.  Pretty much go with the flow, especially from staff, who took their cues from the residents.  I felt comforted by the visit.  

Thanks for hanging in with me.

Hugs, love, laughter,