I look at Lester, and though I don’t doubt he wants a root beer because he has one at least once or twice a day, I suspect it’s an excuse for us to talk.
“Sure.” I walk to the small fridge he keeps here and take out two root beers, then return to the table and sit. I slide one of the drinks over to him.
“How are you doing, kiddo? It’s a lot.”
“It is. I’ve had my interview at the nursing home for the activities director position since Taylor’s not coming back after her baby, after all. And I have an interview tomorrow afternoon at the county records office. Sounds like Susie’s ready to retire.”
“I think you know that’s not really what I was asking. But let’s unpack that. Do you lean one way or another, assuming you get the job at the county?”
“It’s a hard decision because the county pays a little more, and of course, I’m sure the benefits are excellent, but at the nursing home…”
“You get to be with your mom every day. It’s a little closer to home,” Lester says. Those things are true.
“But I also love the activities. I’ve been doing research for a while, and I would love to ramp up the program to maximize the potential benefits for the residents.”
“Harrison was saying something about that when we went to lunch several weeks ago, before all this happened. He was telling me about your findings in articles, and he mentioned he had never seen someone so passionate about an aspect of care at a nursing home.
“He told you about all of that? I knew he listened to me, but I didn’t realize how much.”
“Oh, he listened to you a lot. I think that will become clear very soon.”
“What?”
“Never mind me. I’m just an old man rambling. But he listened.”
He stares at me for a while, not having any issue with silence. He can always outwait me.
“We can’t ever have what we had again. What kind of woman would I be if I not only forgave what he did—what he accused me of—but took him back? I’d lose my feminist carrying card.” My attempt at a joke falls flat.
“Well, I don’t think that’s true, but even if it is, I worry about what you’ll lose if you don’t.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Delaney
In the end, it was an easy choice. Yes, the job in the records department was the more financially lucrative choice on paper, but that’s not where my heart is. So, I’m now the new activities director at Meadow Creek Commons Memory Care Unit. A week in and I’m already loving it. I can’t wait to implement the ideas I have.
On top of that, I have the support of the administration, but the nursing home administrator is especially enthusiastic about what we can do. Her dad had dementia before he died. This disease has affected so many lives.
Since it’s the end of the workday but not yet time for dinner here, I grab my bag and walk to Mom’s room. Today, I’m going to do the one thing I’ve been avoiding for several weeks. I’m planning to read the last legible message that Mom wrote to me in her journal. I didn’t want it to be over. Yes, I can reread them, but it hurts that there will be no new ones.
Mom’s in her chair with the television on a channel that displays nature scenes as piano music plays in the background.
“Hi, Mom. It’s Delaney.” She doesn’t turn her head from the television to acknowledge awareness of what those words mean.
I approach her from the front to prevent startling her. She glances at me for several seconds before the television claims her attention once more. After I drag a chair next to her, I sit and pull her journal from my bag.
Dear Delaney,
My sweet girl. I’m so lucky I got to beyuryour mother. There is nothing I would have rather done with my life. You were so easy to raise, even when youdaveldeveluped that indeependent streak.
By the time you read this, I’m guessing you will have taken care of me for quite some time. Why did you do that? Don’t read further yet. Answer the question. I’ll wait.
You said because you love me, right? Whenpeeplepeople care for and love each other, they often show it through actions. Words can be nice, but they can also be cheep. Don’t rely on words to figure out who really cares about you—watch their actions. Don’t let your indeependent nature rob people of the chance to show they love you. I can’t take care of you anymore, so please let others do it sometimes for me.
My heart will love you always, nomadrmadder what happens with my brain.
I love you,
