Ritual Recitations

Evey visit to Dad these past weeks includes what I now call (to myself) ritual recitations. He says to me, "I'm slipping" and by this he means his memory is getting fuzzy. Funny thing is, Dad's memory has ALWAYS been fuzzy when it came to the recall of names. If he didn't know someone's name he just kept quiet and later on made up a name. Truly.

He's on a jag now to remember and recite the names of his aunts and uncles, his father's brothers and sisters. A large family of eight he apparently, by his report, lies in bed at night pondering their names and consistently gets hung up on his Aunt Beryl. Who wouldn't? What a name.

We go over the list every visit: George, Otis, Lewell (his Dad), Marshie, Beryl, Bessie, Margaret, and Reba.

We also review the names of his pastor and a lovely lady from church who likes to sit with him when he attends church. Most of the time I have to give him the names after he struggles for their names.  Truly, none of this is new. Mom could tell us that if she were here. She was the one for names. Spot on.