I did go up to The Birches last Monday for a Labor Day celebration which doubled as a late birthday party for David. I called ahead and asked that they have Mother sign a card that she could give to him, which they gladly did. The family all gathered in the private dining room for lunch and we had a pleasant afternoon. But Mother wasn't all that engaged. She didn't eat much at all and wanted to lie down when we got back to her room.

Here's what The Birches looks like from the outside...very nice.

Well, it's a Monday after all, but I didn't go for lunch. I've taken some time away at my cabin, which is only a half an hour from The Birches, making a Monday afternoon trip quite a bit easier. With rain threatening the rest of the week, I thought today would be the best hope of taking Mother out anywhere.

There are about 18 who eat lunch in Mother's "neighborhood," all with some degree of memory impairment, and today when I went it was no different. Dot began demanding her dessert even before the salad was served. Eleanor talked loudly to no one in particular about subjects known only to her. Russell sat quietly, looking down at his plate, missing his wife, across from Frances, who missed her, too. Carl was with his wife at another table, and she was reminding him that he was a mess and couldn’t do anything right. "Pick up your fork, Carl. You eat with a fork!" His hearing aid was off.