Dinner out
We went out to dinner tonight, with the family...Casey was certainly missed, and talked about (in a really nice "we miss her" way). The occasion was my parents' 56th wedding anniversary. Miah and Meghan were there as well. Just a small group.
Mom kept asking if there was room for the "other group". We said no, that it was just us tonight. We wanted an adult dinner this time. We went to Riverview, on the Housatonic. Mom sat so she could see the River. Dad was across from her, and I sat next to her. She needs help with silverware these days, and can't always figure out things like butter. It was better I sat next to her, for sure.
Mom, when she sat down and got all settled in, checked the view..."Who lives over there?" she asked as she looked across the river to the Devon side, where the houses back onto the water and have nice docks. The best thing to day is answer her with a name..."Joe", I said, which satisfied her, but sort of annoyed Dad. The nature of this dementia thing is that one question is never enough (sounds like a Bond title, if Bond was in the "B" movie status!). A few minutes later she went back to that question..."Joe"...she again was alright with that.
We eventually ordered, and broke out the bread. While I had noticed about a week ago that Mom was struggling with the whole fork, knife, spoon thing, I try not to interfere until it gets too frustrating for her. Dad says, "She needs to keep trying", which of course means she'll starve eventually! I passed Mom the butter, which was all melty, and sort of wiped it on the bread for her. She got her knife and started spreading it around, so I turned and chatted with the kids and Dirk.
When I looked back, Mom had her fork and knife and was trying to cut the bread into cubes...Dad was just watching her...yes, he was. I just turned to her, with my bread and showed her she didn't need her fork and knife. Sad. My gut tells me it will be easier to make sure she gets food that is in small pieces, or can be eaten with her fingers.
After we got the bread thing down, we were back to "Who lives there?" This time, though, she knew I was just saying "Joe" and said "Schmo" back to me, and then went to go through the whole rhyme..."from Idaho..." Yes, she can remember all of those things!
Salads came...why have restaurants all seem to have forgotten to make lettuce into pieces small enough to put on a fork? When we were kids, Dad showed us how to rip lettuce into small pieces, "restaurant style". He was a cook, part time, and if we screwed it up, we had salad duty the following week. Now, all the lettuce is big, it includes core pieces...just lazy!!! So of course, Mom needed her salad cut up. She let me do it with no worries, and ate most of it.
This is also a struggle. As the day goes on, Mom's appetite decreases. By the time her stuffed shrimp arrived, she was tired of the whole figuring out silverware, maintaining behavior thing...and she still didn't KNOW who lived across the river! Yes, that question kept coming back.
Fortunately, the shrimp had no shell so it was not so bad to cut, but french fries would have been the better starch option...the baked potato required another round of melty butter and that was tricky for sure! Mom struggled with the shrimp, cutting it as best she could. She managed to eat 2 of the shrimp, then Dad looked over at her plate, and asked her if she was going to eat the rest of them...the family looked a bit surprised, but I knew that line...he wanted them!!! She just lifted one up and gave it to him. I made her take the rest of them, along with her baked potato...this would give her a microwaveable meal at home for Tuesday night.
Of course, Dad wanted dessert...he cannot resist a chocolate cake, especially when it includes the word "lava"! Other folks wanted the sweets too (I took home half my dinner salad so I could fit in a piece of key lime pie!), so he wasn't alone. While we were eating dessert, Mom was still asking who lived in that house across the river ("Joe"..."Joe who?"..."JoMama"!).
Dad has this thing he does when he eats chocolate...it doesn't always happen, and we can't really figure out the pattern. He sneezes like a fool, sometimes up to 30 times right in a row. We did get him to admit he sometimes does it on purpose. Fingers crossed, he ate the cake around 7:30 and it's almost 10:30 now...no sneezes.
All in all, it was a somewhat successful evening, with decent service, good food, and some interesting entertainment.
Mom kept asking if there was room for the "other group". We said no, that it was just us tonight. We wanted an adult dinner this time. We went to Riverview, on the Housatonic. Mom sat so she could see the River. Dad was across from her, and I sat next to her. She needs help with silverware these days, and can't always figure out things like butter. It was better I sat next to her, for sure.
Mom, when she sat down and got all settled in, checked the view..."Who lives over there?" she asked as she looked across the river to the Devon side, where the houses back onto the water and have nice docks. The best thing to day is answer her with a name..."Joe", I said, which satisfied her, but sort of annoyed Dad. The nature of this dementia thing is that one question is never enough (sounds like a Bond title, if Bond was in the "B" movie status!). A few minutes later she went back to that question..."Joe"...she again was alright with that.
We eventually ordered, and broke out the bread. While I had noticed about a week ago that Mom was struggling with the whole fork, knife, spoon thing, I try not to interfere until it gets too frustrating for her. Dad says, "She needs to keep trying", which of course means she'll starve eventually! I passed Mom the butter, which was all melty, and sort of wiped it on the bread for her. She got her knife and started spreading it around, so I turned and chatted with the kids and Dirk.
When I looked back, Mom had her fork and knife and was trying to cut the bread into cubes...Dad was just watching her...yes, he was. I just turned to her, with my bread and showed her she didn't need her fork and knife. Sad. My gut tells me it will be easier to make sure she gets food that is in small pieces, or can be eaten with her fingers.
After we got the bread thing down, we were back to "Who lives there?" This time, though, she knew I was just saying "Joe" and said "Schmo" back to me, and then went to go through the whole rhyme..."from Idaho..." Yes, she can remember all of those things!
Salads came...why have restaurants all seem to have forgotten to make lettuce into pieces small enough to put on a fork? When we were kids, Dad showed us how to rip lettuce into small pieces, "restaurant style". He was a cook, part time, and if we screwed it up, we had salad duty the following week. Now, all the lettuce is big, it includes core pieces...just lazy!!! So of course, Mom needed her salad cut up. She let me do it with no worries, and ate most of it.
This is also a struggle. As the day goes on, Mom's appetite decreases. By the time her stuffed shrimp arrived, she was tired of the whole figuring out silverware, maintaining behavior thing...and she still didn't KNOW who lived across the river! Yes, that question kept coming back.
Fortunately, the shrimp had no shell so it was not so bad to cut, but french fries would have been the better starch option...the baked potato required another round of melty butter and that was tricky for sure! Mom struggled with the shrimp, cutting it as best she could. She managed to eat 2 of the shrimp, then Dad looked over at her plate, and asked her if she was going to eat the rest of them...the family looked a bit surprised, but I knew that line...he wanted them!!! She just lifted one up and gave it to him. I made her take the rest of them, along with her baked potato...this would give her a microwaveable meal at home for Tuesday night.
Of course, Dad wanted dessert...he cannot resist a chocolate cake, especially when it includes the word "lava"! Other folks wanted the sweets too (I took home half my dinner salad so I could fit in a piece of key lime pie!), so he wasn't alone. While we were eating dessert, Mom was still asking who lived in that house across the river ("Joe"..."Joe who?"..."JoMama"!).
Dad has this thing he does when he eats chocolate...it doesn't always happen, and we can't really figure out the pattern. He sneezes like a fool, sometimes up to 30 times right in a row. We did get him to admit he sometimes does it on purpose. Fingers crossed, he ate the cake around 7:30 and it's almost 10:30 now...no sneezes.
All in all, it was a somewhat successful evening, with decent service, good food, and some interesting entertainment.
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