Sunday is typically my day with Mom. We go to lunch, do a little shopping; lately we've taken longish country rides to see the fall colors. If I don't let myself become melancholy, which can be difficult, my being sentimental, they are good times. Mostly they are good times.
Her memory isn't what it was, as we expect. Still, we have fun. One of her favorite things to say lately has been, "Have we eaten? Let's go where they have horse." You know, a variation on I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.
This past Sunday we went by Burger King. She asked me to get her a cheeseburger. As she unwrapped it she showed it to me and asked, "What is this?"
I studied it and replied dryly, "It's supposed to be horse."
Mom got a good laugh out of it. But after a bite or two I think she knew it was a regular old cheeseburger.
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