Tonight, again, I was shocked and saddened by how I see her mind wrinkling and slowing, as I stood with her, somewhat impatiently, and then somewhat patiently, watching her filling up her little pill containers for the week.
Her shakey hands, her slow examination of the little boxes, her careful counting, once, twice, maybe more, of each pill as she made sure she had enough. Two of those little boxes, for Wed. and Thurs. evening, still had their four pills from last week (has she slept right through the evening?) and didn't need any filling, yet for each of the four pills, I had to explain why she only needed 5, and not seven.
My heart keens. Please, stop the clock. Where has my vital, interested, perceptive and witty mom gone?
