Panera’s Appeal

After coming in from the yard, Kate got in bed to rest a while. It wasn’t long before she came into the family room where I was about to get on my iPad while listening to Louis Armstrong, Tony Bennett, and Chris Botti. She came in and said, “What can I do now?” As usual, I said “There are several options. We could do something together. Maybe we could find a movie to watch on TV. We could also go to Panera.” Before I could go any further, she said, “Could I take my iPad?” I said, “Of course.” She: “That’s what I really wanted to do anyway.” And that friends is how we got back to Panera for the second time today.

As I pulled into a parking space at Panera, I was telling Kate about a Facebook post by the daughter of an old friend of ours. When I finished, Kate said, “I want to get on Facebook.” I told her I would be happy to show her how, that it is easy on her iPad. Then she said, “I’ve got it on my iPad? But I don’t have my iPad with me.” I told her I had it in my computer bag. She gave me a big smile and said, “You think of everything.” Occasions like this make me sad knowing that we had just finished talking about coming to Panera so that she could use her iPad, but she simply can’t remember.

It might seem strange, but it is clear that Panera has assumed a special place in her life and mine as well. You might think that she would have chosen a movie. That tells me what I have been thinking for a while. Movies are simply not as rewarding to her any more.

In an email from Kate’s brother this morning, he identified with Kate’s dependence on her iPad and pulling leaves. In his case, it is his computer and working on photo albums. Those are his two big activities, and he is becoming less able to do these things. Right now he is working with his wife to complete as many family photo albums as he can before he loses this ability entirely. They are wonderful summaries of all his family from his parents and grandparents to his grandchildren. He has created a treasure. He also hopes that they will help to jog his memory for people and events as he declines.