My Mom Decides to Speak

This is a funny thing that happened a couple years ago.

Men and Purses
Why Daurell won’t hold my purse.
September 7,2006

Where my mother lives right now is called Logan House on 1400 North in Logan. She has been there for a few years now and is reasonably comfortable there. She speaks very little and only knows those that see her very frequently (therefore NOT ME, yet she is always happy to see me) and even then seldom, if ever, calls anyone by name. The facility has a wing for active seniors, an area with assisted living and a wing for Alzheimer patients (which is a locked, tightly secured area). One often sees various degrees of aging moving about the corridors. My brother Mylan relayed this incident to me.

After having taken Mom out to a family get-together, Mylan returned her home and was walking her back to her cottage. Slowly they trundled down the long hallway to the North Cottage door. Coming in the other direction towards them was an elderly couple. The man appeared to be a loving, care giving husband helping his wife along. With one arm through hers, he held her purse with his free hand. Ordinarily, one would smile and say hello when passing in the hall like that, but, my mom had locked eyes on the man from a distance and as Mylan and Mother got close to the couple, Mom stopped, looked right at the man and said, “Sissy.”