Timing

I wish there was some way to get Mom back onto a normal day/night cycle. Last night she went to bed at her regular time and all seemed well (she got up only once to go to the bathroom)--as far as I knew. I woke at four in the morning to find her light on and door open and her not in her room.

She was in the living room on the couch, in the dark, eating the last of her dry breakfast cereal by the handful from the wax paper inner bag she'd pulled out of the cereal box. She was very co-operative as I shepherded her back to her room.

This morning I fixed pancakes for breakfast since there was no more of her cereal available. I should say I made the batter since I suspected she wouldn't rise on time and didn't want to actually make the pancakes before she did. When I heard her in the hallway about 11:00 a.m., I fired up the griddle. Half an hour later she still hadn't made it out into the dining room. I checked on her and she was back in her room making and remaking her bed in a vain attempt to find her glasses.

Thinking she could have left them almost anywhere during her ramblings last night, I searched the entire house only to find them folded neatly on her bedside table.

She finally sat down for a short stack and coffee at noon. When she was done she carefully took a piece of tissue, daubed it into the remaining syrup on her plate, and began to cut it with her fork.

I said, "Mom, what are you doing? You can't eat that!"

"Why not?"

"Because, it's not food. It's a Kleenex."

"It is? I couldn't tell what it was."

"Yes, it is. Are you still hungry? I can fix you something else."

She stared at her plate for a moment.

"Are you still hungry?" I repeated.

"I guess so," she admitted.

I fixed her an egg and toast and more coffee. I think that counts as lunch so maybe we're all caught up now.