“I like working with you, ” she said casually as I walked away.
Why did this make make me tear up?
We had spent a few minutes, about 60, working on the greenhouse, repotting seedlings, watering.
“I like working with you.”
But you taught me all this we do.
I tear up because she doesn’t remember.
“I like working with you.”
She’s miles into the ALZ, but when I told her I wanted to take my flailing little seedlings to the greenhouse, she put on her jacket and followed me. She knew what needed to be done.
As I shook the delicate roots of the seedlings apart and repotted them into pierced Dixie cups, she collected rat-chewed bags, pulled down dried vines, then swept away the cobwebs. She prepped the greenhouse.
“I like working with you.”
She acts amazed when I pull off moves much less complex than the ones I watched her perform over the years. I tear up because she doesn’t remember that she taught me how.
“I like working with you.”
Mom, I love working with you. You’ve trained me well.
©Pennie Nichols. All Rights Reserved. 2020 Alzheimer's