Pat and Dick: Part Two

You can't write this stuff. Seriously.

Here's a follow-up to the Thank-you note (which I DID mail) to Pat and Dick.

There's always some background. This background begins the day after I finally mailed Mom's note to Pat and Dick. Their daughter, Debbie, who follows the blog, had sent me a photo of her with her mom, Pat. The thought was that Mom would enjoy seeing it, which she did. (By the way......Thank you Debbie! Who knew a simple photo could create so much confusion?). Printed the photo out in the morning and set it on Mom's place at the dining room table. Mom got up that morning, saw the photo during breakfast and promptly called me in to explain who the people were in the photo. This was not a surprise. I expected she'd need to have the people in the photo identified. I pointed to each person and slowly explained, "It's a photo of Pat and Debbie. Debbie thought you'd enjoy seeing the photo so she sent it to me to share with you."

"Ohhhh!" Mom replied with her characteristic oh-how-nice tone.

I don't know why, but I always forget how the short-term-memory-loss thing works (I know, I know......who's the one with the memory problem here anyway?!). You'd think I'd have it down by now. But no. So though I thought we were done with the whole Pat and Dick note/Pat and Debbie photo issue, clearly we were not.

Later that afternoon, Mom toddled into the office, sat down on her walker and said, "Where's.......... the letter............ your brother wrote?"

Huh? My brother? Letter?

That's the other thing Mom does a lot--randomly says stuff that makes absolutely no sense. Sometimes I do that seven-degrees-of-separation thing and try to figure out how she comes up with some of her comments. It rarely works. Like one day we were in the car, on our way to a doc appointment, and she, out of the blue, breaks the silence with a heartfelt "Ohhhhh that's niiiiice."

Huh?

I looked everywhere--side mirrors, rear view mirror, inside the car, on the car. I assumed I'd missed something but I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary anywhere. Finally, I asked, "What? What's nice?"

"WHAT?!" she barked right back at me. (She does that a lot too--doesn't just calmly say, "What?" when you don't understand what she's just said. It's always an abrupt "WHAT?!" Kind of scares you, for a moment.

Then I asked her, "What's so nice?"

She paused. Processing. Slowly.

Then, "Ohhhh...........I don't know". And that was it. Who knows what she saw, or heard, or.....whatever. It was just another Mom-Moment.

But back to Mom's question...about when my brother (the one in California) sent me "the letter."

I said, "Wh.....letter? He didn't write me a letter."

But Mom was relentless, "Well, how did he send you the photo?"

Huh?

Okay, so I'm not sure how Mom connected the photo of Pat and Debbie to my brother, but she did. I don't think either of my brothers even knows Pat and Dick so we're talking at least twenty-degrees-of-separation there!

Soooooo, once again, I explained it all to Mom--I mailed the thank you note to Pat and Dick that she had written, I emailed Debbie that the note was mailed, Debbie sent the photo, the photo is of Debbie and Pat, I printed it out, etc.

She wheeled out of the office, seemingly satisfied, sort of.

Again......I really thought we were done with the photo this time.

Wrong again.

Now flash forward to this afternoon. Mom's in the dining room. My other brother is visiting for a few days. (I have two older brothers. This one lives in Hawaii. The one who lives in California is the one who Mom thinks wrote me "the letter" with the photo) Oh and one more thing you should know about my brother from Hawaii--he has a wicked sense of humor.

So my brother (who is visiting from Hawaii) and I are in the dining room with Mom, and Mom picks up the photo of Pat and Dick and blurts out, "Denise, who IS this in this photo?" My brother looks at me, half-smiling. It's a devious smile, like his wicked wheels are suddenly starting to turn. I've briefed him about this whole Pat and Dick note/photo thing so he's up to speed. He says nothing. Just observes.

I sigh, then explain to Mom again,"That's Pat and Debbie."

"Ohhhh."

For emphasis, I add their last names. This seems to register.

"Oh yeeees." Mom appears to finally understand. I thought.

She pauses. Then she adds, "Well I don't remember having this picture taken of us!"

My brother breaks into a quiet chuckle. Still, he says nothing and chooses instead to merely watch what happens next.

I continue, "No.......Mom........(I point to the photo.) THIS is Pat, and THIS is Debbie."

"Ohhhh."

Another pause.

Now I'm thinking maybe we're really done this time. She genuinely seems to understand who is in the photo. I turn and walk toward the kitchen area.

"Well I don't understand why her hair is so gray!" Mom blurts out before I get three steps away.

And truly.........I was going to respond. I started to respond. But I thought better of it. I mean, what was the point? Sometimes it's just not worth the effort. I look at my brother for guidance. He offers none. Just smiles and shakes his head.

About this time Dad wheels in. "Hey what's going on in here?!" he bellows (he hates not knowing what's going on......it's a control thing. Ninety-three and still insists on knowing everything about everything).

Before anyone can answer, he spots the photo in Mom's hands, "Hey lemme see that!" He snatches the photo away from Mom, and the next two things, which you really need to understand, happen in one lightning-flash, split-second movement: 1. Dad flips down the jeweler's visor (that he always wears.....so he can read); 2. He pulls his high-intensity pocket halogen flashlight out of his back pocket. The photo in his hands is instantly illuminated. Dad does this whole quick-draw thing all the time. It's kind of his trademark. At least one of them. It's the only way he can read small print, or make out tiny details of anything. And although we're all used to the Quick-Draw move, it's kind of funny to see the momentary fear that passes over a stranger's face when, for example while perusing the wine section at CostCo, Dad's visor suddenly snaps down over his eyes and a little Derringer-sized flashlight suddenly appears out of his back pocket. Yeah. Subtlety is not Dad's strongpoint.

But back to the photo that Dad is now scrutinizing like a grid--across the top from left to right, down and back from right to left, and across again....until the entire picture has been duly analyzed.

"Who's this?" Apparently the analysis came up with nothing.

"That's Pat!" answers Mom.

"Oh! Well............" Dad again, "..........your hair isn't gray!"

This time Mom corrects him, "No, That's not me! That's Pat and Debbie!"

But Dad didn't hear this. He cuts Mom off with, "I don't recognize this location!" (Cuz he assumes he should......since, remember, he knows everything about everything.)

Mom again, "Well that wasn't taken here, it's in South Carolina."

But Dad didn't hear that part either. "Which one is Pat?"

Mom shows him.

"Then who's this?" he says pointing to Debbie, Pat's daughter.

And Mom, who really cannot hold any kind of stride in a conversation says, "That's Pat!"

Dad, pointing at the real Pat, "I thought THIS was Pat!" (Are YOU confused yet?)

It's at this point that my brother can't stand it any longer. He chooses his opportunities oh so carefully. His timing with this one was perfect.

He walks over, interjects himself between Mom and Dad, and points to the photo, "No, no, no...... that's Abbott, and that's Costello."

Which sends my mother's confusion into the stratosphere, "Whaaaaaat?!" she cries, almost painfully. She was having a hard enough time with Pat and Debbie!

But, as I said, my brother is a wicked, wicked tease, "No, no, no wait, that's Laurel, and that's Hardy."

My head is buried in my hands. I am no longer part of this conversation, thank goodness. I'm laughing--something I don't do nearly enough.

Dad puts an end to the hilarity, "No, now wait just a minute. Who IS this?"

That's my cue. I approach the photo, still in Dad's hands, I point, precisely, for the LAST TIME, "THAT is Pat. And THAT is Debbie."

Lonnnnng pause. We all wait while Dad studies the photo again with his visor-flashlight.

"Hmmm." He turns off the flashlight. He flips up the visor. "Your brother sent you this?"

I give up.