Creative Mistruths

Yesterday would have been a good day to lie to mom. Ain't hindsight grand? She asked me what I was doing and I told her - a little too honestly - that I was sorting and throwing stuff away. She latched onto that like a sucker fish! "Not my stuff" "Not stuff I will miss" "Not anything that is mine"
"Isn't there lots of stuff in the alcove that is mine?" I tried to point out to her that I had put most of the boxes that are in the alcove in there - and that I was doing my best to not throw away anything that she might think was important or valuable. What a can of worms I opened on myself! Kind of like a can of whoop ass - but mental in nature. It would have been better to prevaricate or obfuscate (I am better at the latter). Perhaps tell her that I was cleaning something else, somewhere else. Or basically anything at all that didn't make her start to worry about things she might miss. Sigh. And once again, it is proven true, that logic does not work well with people with dementia. Pointing out that if she hasn't missed it for two years (or more like 15), she is unlikely to miss it at all, ever, just didn't make the impression I had hoped. Oh well. Maybe she will have forgotten about it by the time she wakes up today. Fingers crossed.

Rubbish day! (And no, it was not a bad day - just, well, read on...) I try not to put the rubbish out at the road too frequently. Yes, I am oddly parsimonious. The garbage (pronounced in a faux French accent) company charges for each time they pick up - not so with recycling - one flat fee for the month ($3 and change), so I aim to put rubbish out once a month. Or less if I can manage. Easier to do in the winter, odorifically speaking. This time, though, I miscalculated and had a large, very large, load of stuff. Eeek! I hope they don't charge per bag...

Watched The Scarlet Pimpernel with mom last night. I rented it from Netflix for her. I figure that older films might be easier for her to follow and to understand. Fewer nuances, more straightforward storytelling. I have seen this version, Leslie Howard 1934 (I think), once or twice before. I am sure mom has too, though of course it was new to her last night. Sadly, it was tougher for her to follow than movies have been even in the recent past. Sigh. We got through it ok and I didn't have to pause the movie. I don't know how much of what I tell her actually sinks in. Cognition is a weird thing to begin with, how much weirder it must be with a disease added into the picture!

Today is another day. Yay!