Roller Coaster

Well, this experience certainly is interesting...and definitely has its ups and downs.

When we last left our intrepid heroine, she was happily relaxing in her new home, and said she was going to take her time unpacking boxes so that she could truly make this apartment hers.  She was going to go to get breakfast at 7:30 and would see us for brunch at 11:30.

Sounded great.  I came home and slept like a log all night.

This morning I gave her time to get her breakfast and then showed up at about 8:30, newspapers in hand.  I could not believe it when she opened the door.   Her face was flushed like she had been crying.  There wasn't a light on in the house, all the curtains were closed and she was shaking.  "Oh, thank goodness it's you," she said.  "I just didn't know what to do."

Poor thing. I felt so sorry for her.  She hadn't been to breakfast because she didn't know where to go or even which way to turn when she left the apartment.  She said she had lost the call button that they gave her when she came in (the local Life Line) which she was supposed to wear around her neck at all times but it wasn't there and she didn't remember where she put it.  She hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast yesterday, she said (I knew THAT was wrong, since we all had burritos around 3:30).  She just seemed so terribly helpless and lost.

I turned on the lights and gave her her newspapers.  I took her out to the front lobby and showed her where she could get coffee and some pastry and we came back and talked.  We did an in-depth search for her Life Line, which had just disappeared.   After a frantic search, it was found -- around her neck.  Crisis averted.

When her coffee was gone, she went by herself back to the front lobby to get more.  I considered that a major break-through and I decided NOT to put an arrow on the door pointing in the right direction.

Walt came and took her empty boxes to the dumpster.  The three of us went to their brunch.  I let her take the lead and did not point her where she should go.  She managed to find the dining room all right. It was kind of interesting.  They advertise a carvery station, Belgium [sic] waffles and mimosas, none of which were visible, or offered, but we did have a lovely breakfast.   They had fabulous fried shrimp which was crisp, not soggy, as you would expect from being in a warmer.  Also, the eggs benedict had runny yolks, which I never find in warming trays.  I would have liked a Belgian waffle, but didn't see where I could order one.

A little lady came and sat with us and, I have to tell ya, she made my mother seem like a Rhodes scholar.  I think it also gave my mother an ego boost to discover that this was one of her fellow residents.  It's always nice to find someone more confused than you are! I don't know how long she has been at Covell Gardens.   She did tell us in one of her more lucid moments that she hasn't been there long, but she has lived in Davis longer than Walt and I have (and we've been here nearly 40 years).

I reminded my mother about her "date" with Ron, the ambassador tonight.  She had totally forgotten that, but I hope she remembers long enough to "put on her face," which she said she would have to do.

She still thinks she's going to walk to my house to pick up her car from time to time.  I just let that pass without comment.  

We were going to go shopping for some supplies, like shelf paper, a garbage can and other things that could freshen up the place, but when I asked if she'd rather do that today or tomorrow, she said tomorrow.  She said she had "all the time in the world" to get settled.  And to my utter amazement she said she can hardly remember "that other place" where she had lived.  When our breakfast companion asked where she had come from, my mother looked at me blankly and said "Bev, where did I come from again?"  She had unpacked her shoes and put them away without a single comment about shoe choices, and most amazing of all, she said that maybe after three weeks or so, when she had her apartment all straightened out, we could go back to her other place and stay the night and get some cleaning done.  I tried not to express shock at that statement, given that she was adamant yesterday about going TODAY to clean it all up.

She also said that she didn't understand why the movers had gotten lost trying to find her house yesterday when it plainly says "260" on her mailbox and on her house.  Only 260 is not her house number.  I didn't mention that she had forgotten her address!

Of course, I know full well that she could totally change tomorrow and demand to be taken "home".  I am avoiding saying "home" at all with regard to Terra Linda, but just calling it "Terra Linda."  There are a couple of vital things I forgot to take, like the charger for her cell phone (tho if I can get her land line installed this week, that won't be a problem) and her address book.  If I think of a couple of other things, I might drive back there without her and pick them up, but hopefully I can just have Ed bring them.

When we left around 1:30, I told her I would go to Peet's and get her some coffee so she can make her own tomorrow.  I did, and by the time I got back to the apartment, she was asleep on the couch, so I just left the coffee on the counter and let myself out quietly.

I'm looking forward to getting a report on her "date" tonight and whether she meets new people, so I'm having breakfast with her tomorrow morning.  I think I'm going to take her to see The Great Gatsby on Wednesday.  It's playing in town and it seems to be the sort of movie she would really like.