I’m a Stalker

We are leaving this morning to go north for some respite.

We talked with Mom yesterday about packing but it never got finished. She would constantly go back and forth from her room asking the same questions over and over.

Finally, we convinced her to take a bath. That was the usual ordeal. It probably took 20 minutes for her to get towards the bathroom. Maybe we threw too much at her. She finally took a bath, we think, and that ended that. She never got the packing done.

This morning I heard her go to the bathroom. I positioned myself so I could see her walk down the hall. That is where I felt like a stalker.

When we met in the hall, I asked her about packing. We had to go over it all over again. She didn’t know how long, where, with whom.

A new old day.