Lock up your money makers, boys, Mom is on the make.
We're back in a bit of dementia upswing again. Since December Mom has become more chatty with a lively lilt to her voice (utterly unintelligible, but you can tell she's pleased with her topic), is blessed with increased smiles and laughter, and experiencing boosted contentment for a good portion of her day. We aren't free of the rage stage but it hasn't been invited to the party much as of late.
I'm glad to say "Good riddance to a terrible guest!" However, her appetite is also slowing down here and there, even with favorite foods, leading me to suspect we are accelerating our spiral into Stage 7; a prospect I can't decide if I welcome or dread.
In the meantime, Little Miss Dementia has been quite kittenish of late, giving us joyous delight at her coquettish engagement with her world while scaring the bejeezus out of those hapless saps that catch her eye.
Two troublemakers. One aiding and abetting, the other having all kinds of fun.
Like every other Monday afternoon, MotherMinder went to pick Mom up from Thelma's Place (Mom's wonderful day respite center). Unlike every other Monday afternoon, Mom greeted MotherMinder with a million dollar smile, grabbed both her hands, and uttered breathlessly "You came..." as if she were welcoming MotherMinder to her debutant ball and about to claim her first dirty dance.
The everyday angels at Thelma's and MM teased Mom about her unusually good mood as MM helped a grinning Mom into her coat and steered her towards the door. At that moment a tall, dark stranger opened the entryway door to pick up his dementia loved one, this being their first day at Thelma's.
"Well, hey buddy!" Mom purred at him, surprising everyone with the flirtatiousness that flooded her tone. Mom then proceeded to traverse the ten feet between her and her target with an amorous dance, putting one shimmying hip in front of the other as she closed in on her prey.
She wrapped up this bawdy performance by delivering a seductive "Rawr!" inches from his frame. MotherMinder and the Thelma's ladies stood open-mouthed in shock, but that was nothing compared to the gentleman's befuddlement in finding himself an object of such overt geriatric desire! As the females in the room burst into laughter at Mom's lusty attentions he attempted to hide his confusion with a sheepish smile. MM extracted her vampish charge from the situation as best she could while the man took cover in search of his own dementia person.
As MotherMinder was relaying the tale to me that evening, Mom gave a repeat performance of her dance which had me in stitches, thrilled with the love of life that shimmered and glimmered over her too often vacant face.
So, is Mom about to present me with a new Daddy? That's the one thing that could top all dementia nightmares that have come before it. But I think I'm safe - she's still a sexy beast, but the dating pool she wades in isn't teeming with potential. So, I'll put aside my horror at the thought and focus on the happiness of seeing Mom a little wanton, a little shameless, a little vixen, and a lot alive.