This past weekend Kate expressed more than usual frustration, some of which was directed at me. Our TV service had been out since the previous weekend, and she had wanted me to call AT&T to get it fixed. When it first went out, she said she was going to call AT&T. Later she indicated that she thought it would be better for me to do since she would not know what to say to them. As I am sometimes prone to do, I forgot about it during the day. It wasn’t that I was too busy to work it into my schedule although I did have a busy week. We spoke on the phone late Friday as I was leaving Dad’s for home. She told me she really wanted to get the TV working again. I could tell she was put out with me and asked if she were peeved. She said, “Well, yes.”
When I got home, I proceeded to contact them and after about an hour and a half, we got to the point at which they said they would have to send a technician to our house. Kate was pleased, and we ended up going to Casa Bella for dinner. During our dinner she said she was feeling better and indicated that she guessed she was feeling a little neglected. We didn’t go into a discussion, but I know we have periodic talks about how much time I spend with Dad.
The next morning she was on the phone with one of her PEO sisters. They were discussing the financial statement of a scholarship candidate. Before making the call, Kate went over the statement with me and made notes so that she would be sure of what she was going to say when she was on the phone. She is increasingly unsure of herself, especially when it involves things that are not in her skills area. Numbers are clearly one of those.
When she was on the phone, I was right next to her but working on the computer. She got very nervous and told me not to leave her. Everything worked out, but these kinds of things are added stress to her life.
Yesterday I got out my backup drive to back up my computer. I keep it in a box that has 2 corrugated pieces that hold it firmly in place within its box. When I went to put up the drive, I couldn’t find the 2 pieces of corrugated paper and asked her about them. At first she didn’t know what I was talking about. When I explained a little more, she thought she recalled that she had done something with them but couldn’t remember what. She looked in a number of places and finally found them for me. It was not a big deal, but this represented another instance in which her memory failed her. When she gave them to me, she said, “I’m just getting worse.” I tried to comfort her, but I can tell this doesn’t help. I think it is because she knows I also see it.