Today my daughter was looking at the photo I have of myself as my phone identifier. She said, "Mom, that's a good picture of you." I said, "I know." She said, "I guess as one gets to a certain age, good manners that require a humble 'thank you' go out the window."
That set me thinking about the cultural barriers that fall as one ages.
For example: My mother, with advanced Alzheimer Disease, lived in a nursing home. She had always been fairly prim and proper. She had not spoken for a couple of years. I almost could not remember how her voice sounded. My sister made daily visits to her while I made the trip every other month or so.
On one trip, I took current pictures of my grandchildren, thinking that the photos might elicit a spark of recognition from her. I held one photo of the four grand daughters in front of her, trying to position it in her glazed-over line of sight. I put the photo in her hand, pointed to each child as I named them. Mom gazed at it, kind of looking, kind of not. Finally she said, yes said, in a most audible voice, "Cute little sh...ts, aren't they?"
After a two year period of silence these were the first and last words out of her mouth.
My sister and I were shocked, looked at each other, and doubled over with laughter.
When we came up for air, gasping in stunned hilarity, we saw that my mother had once again returned to her hidden, internal world.
And that's what I think about it.
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