Confusion does not begin to describe Moma lately. She will be just fine for an hour or so, and then POOF! Crazy Train pulls out of the station. She watched me spend most of the day Sunday putting together a saddle for my parents' grave. She knew who they were, who I was, and how we were all related. She was as normal as possible for her. Later that day, I moved the saddle into the dining room because it was supposed to rain. She looked at me and said, "Wooooooo how purty! Where'd you get that?" I reminded her that I made it. She nodded like she remembered. Then she announced to Christopher that I made that "bouquet" for my mother. Ugh.....
Monday afternoon, my friend came up to take the stitches out of my head. She brought her daughter and her 2 friends to visit with Moma. She blistered their young ears with her favorite curse words. Nice.....
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