Summertime

If there was such a thing as an Alzheimer's Plateau, I guess this is it. Nothing is worse, nothing is better. A few days ago she was her "on the go" self, and if you didn't push that wheelchair fast enough then she was going to do it herself. Almost like a little kid. If she could still talk I bet she would have told me to get my hands off her chair.

Her 88th birthday is coming up: August 19. Many of my cousins and aunts and uncle are coming in for a picnic at Hillcrest. Last year at the same time I was wondering if Grandma would still be here for another year. This year I'm wondering if she'll be around next year. It doesn't really matter I guess because the outcome of Alzheimer's is the same. So I'll take what I get even if it means doing laps around the hallway.

When I drive out to Hillcrest with my window down I can smell the corn, and that always reminds me of summertime on Grandma and Grandpa's farm. I will always love that smell. When the sweet corn was ready I would help Grandma boil it, slice it off the cob and then put it into baggies. Of course I ate my fill at the same time because there is nothing like fresh cooked sweet corn.