Memoir Stories | Senior Life | Memory Loss
The Lady Who’s 92: About Strawberries and Saturday Nights
Each visit with my mom is a new comedy, and she is the one laughing
At 92, my mother is a fountain of material to write about or feel sad about, depending on the day.
Some days, she has us both in stitches; other days, she is happier to complain. But this seems to be due to losing her short-term memory, which is gradually lessening with time.
For example, she doesn’t remember what she did earlier that day, but she’s sharp as a tack recalling the breakfast she prepared the morning of my birth – the day she literally pushed me into the world.
I miss my 60-year-old mom, but I’m discovering that the best thing I can do for both of us now is to enjoy the moment. She may not remember, but I will.
On the subject of breakfast, my mom and I get together weekly at least once, for breakfast in her community’s dining room.
I especially love Wednesday breakfast — pancakes, bacon and a dish of fruit — and their coffee is perfect, like the medium roast at Tim Horton’s drive-through.
Cooper (my dog) loves the bacon.
