Sisters

Mom's kid sister telephoned yesterday. Actually, the procedure was closer to that used by heads of state, self-important CEOs and movie moguls ("Get me Matt Damon's people!"). My cousin Elaine called me to let me know that her mom wished to speak to my mom if Mom was available. I said she was and we both went to put the old girls on the line. Mine got there first and kept shouting into the phone, "Hello? Is anybody there?" even after my aunt was on the line.

The conversation sounded something like a multiple translator hot-line dial-up between the US president and the USSR general secretary, too, if they were both deaf and half-senile.

"Don't speak so loudly, I can't hear you."
"You're where? Where are you calling from?"
"Oh, that's nice. What did you do? Where are you?"
"Where am I? Where am I?" ("You're home, Mom.") "I'm home. They've fixed it up nice so people can come in and help." (It's just my brother and me. No one comes in.)
"What did you do? Ice cream? Where?"
and so on. . ..

Mom thinks her sister has lost/is losing her mind and she has had at least one stroke, but, honestly, whenever I've seen my aunt (last spring when my cousin, Gerry, died) she seems to be doing just fine. Mom's the one who is ahead in this race.

They had a nice conversation during which about one third of the potential amount of information was actually exchanged, and then Elaine came back on the line, and I was going to have Mom give me the phone so I could ask her for some genealogical information on that side of the family, but the phone's battery died and being the old piece of junk that it is, it has no memory, or last call redial, or anything of that sort so I'll have to try and find her number somewhere else.