Who’s coming?

The note on the white board on our kitchen table says:  “9 pm – Tammy and Marko arrive.”

The monthly calendar on our cellar door says: “Marko and Tammy” on the Monday,  October 4, block.

The little daily calendar on the clipboard says the same thing.

I call home on my way from class at 8:50 and ask Boris if our guests have arrived.  “Who’s coming?” he asks.  I explain and say, “I guess the bad weather will make them come later.”  He agrees.

Ten minutes later I arrive at the house and he doesn’t know that we’re getting guests.  “Who’s coming?”  he calls up the steps.  I tell him and he seems surprised.  Then I go into the kitchen and find the message that he wrote by the phone perhaps an hour ago:  “Tonight – Marko  10 pm.”

And so his regression continues.  I see it in so many little repetitions daily,  in the things he isn’t sure how to do,  in the  pattern of his naps,  his tasks.

And I am sad.

In a way,  he is becoming more boyish,  asking my permission to do things.  “Can I cut this pie?”  “Is it OK if I take my shower now?”  “Which way do you want me to drive to  …?”  “Should I mow the grass?”  “Which trash cans do the leaves go in?”

But as soon as I think this,  he does something which is the “real” Boris.  Makes a decision,  fixes something,  stands firm on an opinion.  I am living with a couple of people and it’s up to me to simply glide along with them.

I remind myself that this is the best it will ever be, and I’m so lucky to still have some of my Boris today.

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2 Responses to Who’s coming?

  1. Dianne says:

    I’m glad the “real” Boris still peeks through for you…dw

  2. Mimi says:

    Dear Nancy,

    So glad that you are writing as you are “living through it” experience.

    Your experience is exactly what happens….there are brief moments of “peeking through” the windows of opportunity..when all seems normal.
    Sometimes you must wonder who is living the dream….you or Boris or both from
    different perspectives.

    There is healing in the writing for you and a reflection/memory journal for you
    to keep.

    Love,
    Mimi!

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