Well, should it
Old and new acquaintances are important for how they are alike and how they are different. I don’t remember if I wrote this column last year but luckily WORD will remember
No sign of it; another false memory.
Christmas day is a great day for false memories. Since they run in my family and Sean Hopkins is a master at them, the group in my living room was pining for the days before Google when Sean could sneak a Poe quote past everyone claiming it was a Dickens and now outcome the search engines and the poor guy is caught red-handed.
So when my old, friend, investor, golf buddy and resident at Bellamy ran one past a few of us that had no chance of passing the smell test, he was a pretty good sport about backpedaling and changing the story until the listeners gave him a pass.
And don’t play the I have dementia card, he was reminded by Cindi. Being A bs-er has nothing to do with your dementia, she gently reminded him.
Which led to a good conversation about the mechanisms we use to tell and make up stories, draw out memories, construct exaggerations and tremble when the search engines come flying out to seek the truth.
The Fields is a tough crowd and dementia is a team sport, led by some activities therapists who won’t accept age or infirmity as an excuse for a wrong answer.
From my seat in the bleachers, I can feel the wheels of insight and introspection (or what’s left of them) grinding through the players daring to spell a tough word or shout out a hard answer and risking the wrath of the crowd that Kofax was never on the Yankees.
I can tell when the communities have come together as they have this year. There’s nonchalance and curiosity when the undertaker arrives and departs.
The residents have joined the walk-out, the parade led by the gurney covered by our home-made tree of life quilt. My friend, C, called for When the Saints Go Marchin In for her dirge. There was a little dancing if you must know.