Claiming a small victory

It’s about Mum.

Mum has Atzheimer’s and is living in a home. I see her when I can.

I visited twice this last week. On the second visit she called me Steven: She got my name right.

Two years ago, before I started the present job, and before she was in care, I spent some mornings with mum so that Dad could get away from having to look after her 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. During that time she forgot who I was.  At the end of each visit she’d ask, “Are you going back to your mum?” She is my mum.

She had confused me with my son. I suppose I should have been flattered that she’d knocked 32 years off my age. But to be the first person she forgot … well.

So this week when she remembered my name is was more than just pleased.

In situations like this you have to celebrate every little victory.

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