It's a special day and I don't know why. I am alone in the house with my MIL (mother-in-law) while the rest of the family takes care of business. MIL is docile. She is sitting with me in front of the TV and drifting in and out of dreamland. She is not "antsy". She is not whistling. She is quiet! I love it! And it is exactly the opposite of what I expected.
Yesterday, the entire nail was removed from the big toe on her right foot. It was not a pretty sight. Peggy had to lay across MIL's bod just to keep her down and even then, MIL almost threw her off. She did NOT want the doc to do anything to her! She was finally appeased by a stick of gum, a trick used often by my wife ever since my daughter found that it curbed the incessant whistling. Last night, it was wife's turn to be paranoid, watching like a hawk as she waited for the inevitable ripping off the the dressing and agitation over the pain in her foot. Guess what? It never happened! MIL slept through the night. That's right. The entire night. It was such a treat and so unexpected. Guess the physical tasks of yesterday tuckered her out. I'll not complain though. I am sitting here--enjoying the quiet. I know it won't last, but I am going to live it up for now.
Now for the latest news. MIL has started blowing kisses at each new person that comes on the TV screen. She just puckers up and lets fly, with all the sound effects that go with it. For the moment, it is absolutely hilarious. I know that soon it will drive me out of my gourd, but for now, it is comical. This new little mannerism, with the old one of trying to count how many people are on the screen, combines for a most interesting string of nonsense. Makes me wonder-- just what is going on in that strange black hole of a mind, that used to process information at record speeds with instant feedback. Now it just absorbs the input and kicks it back and forth, with only an occasional sign that anything is going on in there at all.
On very good days, she adamantly wants to visit Raymond, her brother in Arkansas that she hasn't seen in 25 years. Of course, she only has to look over the wall behind my house and she sees not only Raymond, but his house, his car, his horse, his dog, his "crazy" wife, etc. She just doesn't understand why Raymond doesn't come by. After all, "he was here yesterday." He is such a good brother, visiting so often (VBG)--and if she wants to see him--she will. We arrange it. Just take her to the window, let her look across at "his place" and tell her he'll be by when he has finished working. Of course, an imaginary brother cannot visit, but this information makes her happy for awhile, then she forgets and moves on to other things, such as rubbing the fabric off the chair or trying to hide away another Jerky Treat (much to the disappointment of our Pomeranians, the rightful owners of these tidbits).
Such a nice, quiet day! Wish you all could have one.
was also written in late 1993.
-- Steven Stoker (c)