Who all's coming?

Today Moma has asked me a million times "Where are we going to eat Thanksgiving dinner?" and "When is Thanksgiving?"

I took her to the beauty shop this morning and they pampered and petted her rotten. They fix her a snack and keep her drinking coffee. They hug and kiss her when she gets there and when she leaves. They must know that we have toted this little woman around on a pillow for years. Once a princess, always a princess. Her hair looked sooooo much better than yesterday when she declared that she didn't need to go to the beauty shop.

When we got home, she wanted to go out to eat, because she is accustomed to my sister taking her to lunch and Wal-Mart on Wednesdays (the usual beauty shop day). My son and I took her to Uncle Sam's to eat. There were a couple of people in there that knew her, so again she is showered with affection and attention. We sat down and she said "Who was that woman? and who is her mother? She said her mother misses me. I don't know her mother." Her mother is the ONLY person from her church who has paid her any attention since she has gotten so feeble. She comes by periodically and goes to the store for her, or just visits her. God will richly bless this little woman.

After lunch, I am thinking that she is worn out and will nap the afternoon away. Oh no......she is wide awake. She follows me around, and picks and pokes in everything. I go to the bathroom to give the dog a bath (hubby will have to bathe the other one), and here she comes. She turned over my HUGE drink while messing through my things. I'm telling you, it is like having my daughter as a little girl all over again. She was a messer! And obviously she got it honestly!

She finally laid down for a bit, and I got on the computer to check my email. She came in and said, "Are we going to eat supper?" It was 3:45. Her time management is not working properly (along with many other things). When I do start to fix supper, she comes in to "help" (notice my tongue in my cheek?). Out of the clear blue sky, we have this conversation:
Moma: Who are you cooking for?
Me: my family
Moma: I know that but who all's coming?
Me: Who all's coming where?
Moma: to supper
Me: Moma, just my family!
Moma: Well, who all is in your family?
Me: (after a moment to collect my thoughts) You know, you live with us, you tell me. Who are they?
Moma: All I ever see is your husband and that boy that's been here with me all day.
Me: Moma, that boy is your great grandson. Do you not remember my daughter?
Moma: I don't know what is wrong with me. I think I am going crazy!

Now, God love her! She knows that what she is saying is wrong, and totally off the mark. How sad. If you are a praying person, please pray for my grandmother's peace of mind. To have totally lost it is one thing, but to come and go must be torture.

On a funny note, the dogs were playing chase through the house, and one of them ran up onto the couch, right in the middle of her stomach while she was dozed off. She hollared, then looked down at him, and said, "Buddy, you do that again, and I'll knock the crap outta you!".
That's my Moma!