Yesterday, Mitzi had a surprise visit from a great friend from college days thanks to the expert coordination of her Angel(a) sister. Mitzi had been the Homecoming Queen in high school (you’re not surprised, are you?), and she had been pretty popular in college, but since she didn’t have her Homecoming Queen sash or tiara to parade around in anymore, her friend brought her flowers. This made for lots of laughs, of course.
After they left, Mitzi gave me a Velcro hug (seriously, she is a Hugging Black Belt!) and said through tears, “Thank you. I cannot believe you would all go to so much trouble to put things together like this to make me feel so special.”
I know it is so hard for her friends and family to watch this disease march across her mind like Sherman did in Atlanta, leaving smoldering rubble in places where mansions once stood. It’s uncomfortable for some to have to answer the repeat questions or watch me cut up her food or help her put on her sweater (sometimes directions like “put your arm through here” can be confusing). Believe me, I know so, so well how hard all of that can be. Especially because her friends are her age. She doesn’t get the luxury (?) of going through this at 87 when it’s easier for society to swallow the sight of someone walking with her to show her where the bathroom is and holding the stall door closed because otherwise she just might lock it and have trouble getting out (we learned the hard way a while back to just hold the door closed to avoid this…so if you ever see someone doing this, please don’t judge, OK?).
She has some incredible family and friends, though, who are doing a truly phenomenal(ly hard) job of walking through this with her unconditionally. She has told me time and time again that she knows she could just be staying at home, bored, and dying for relationships. Like I always say, her best prescription is 200mg daily of people…❤️
