sometimes when I walk to my Moms house for morning coffee, three doors down, Jack greets me with a grin
and a story about the porch lizards and yard birds.
We sit for a moment and talk about the same story
we did the day before. {Lizard mating habits and bird territories}. After all, he is the "Critter Whisperer".
He talks gently and speaks softly to the local mosquitoes
and annoying no-see-ems.
but this particular morning he had a scowl. He was kinda pissed. My silly early morning antics did not amuse him.He declared that the next door neighbors were operating a Whore House. Four women live there.They had too many cars illegally parked.
Truth is, a young adorable-hardworking-engaged-to-be-married-couple live there. He is good friends and very social with them.
But not this day.
I tried to tell him that it is NOT a whorehouse, but friendly neighbors who mow their lawn, pay taxes and plan
to have children and build the white picket fence life .
He scorned them, saying that in his day when a man and woman lived together they were man and wife.
I reminded him that he LIVED with my Mom and LOVED her 10 years before they married. He did not remember that part of his life story.
Alzheimers is a confusing disease.
He was mad at me for the next few hours.
We choose to love, laugh and carry on.
Everyday, every hour is a brand new adventure.
Most days are familiar....but the whorehouse situation next door was a hard pill to swallow.
and the pills will become larger and harder to swallow...
as time goes by.
