We are foolish if we believe that things are going to stay pretty much the same day in and day out. I was reminded of that today when I brought mom back from a ride to her memory care home. She's had a lovely room there for three years and is well taken care of.
We placed Mom in the home when Dad died. The experience was very traumatic for our family. Mom, having Alzheimer's, had to be tricked into going there. We brought a few of her furnishings with her and had to dispose of the rest. It took months to get everything squared away, selling some things, donating others, and incorporating a few into our homes.
Since that time, Mom's situation has stayed pretty much the same. That is, until last week when she had to be moved to another room because she'd been disturbing the other residents at night. So this afternoon, I tackled the last of Mom's downsizing. I'll find new homes for her chest of drawers, night stand and favorite painting. What's going to be difficult is throwing out all of the wonderful diaries and scrapbooks of my parent's travels around the world. A reminder that these travels were not objects to cling to, but memories to enjoy until memories end.
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