Hadn’t had a chance to walk in a few days so yesterday’s jaunt through the woods felt like recess back in Holy Trinity. Our most travelled route even felt brand new, especially so when we discovered Peggi’s favorite white birch had fallen.
Peggi did a few paintings of the eye-like knots in the bark and we’d marvel at the tree, the biggest in this birch stand on top of a ridge, each time we passed. They are funny trees. The bark is impervious to rot, perfect for lining Native American canoes. Thet look fine one day and then fall over the next.
My siblings, Peggi and I found a new home for my mom today. Peggi and I plan to drop off the application, the PRI and POA forms in the morning. The admissions assistant, who gave us a tour this afternoon, was perfectly professional until she went off the rails in answer to a question about the food. Something about the chef serving peas and pimentos that she found very odd.
Meanwhile my dad is spending his last days in a different nursing home, one that doesn’t separate their hospice and dementia clients. There’s a woman in a wheelchair who does laps of the hallways while talking a blue streak. She is absolutely delightful, David Greenberger material, but she tried opening the door to the stairs last night and set off a painfully loud alarm that no one seemed to know how to turn off. She told us she “was the only man in her family.” And there’s a man who wanders the halls while pulling his shirt up over his head. He went down the elevator with some visitors the other night and wound up in the basement. He was perfectly happy but the staff freaked out.
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