Tonight at dinner Kate pointed her finger at her iced tea and then at herself. I recognized this hand signal as one that asked if she could drink her tea. I said yes, and she did.
At almost 9:25 this evening, I told her the time and suggested that she might want to get to bed. In a few minutes, she asked, “What do I do now?” I told her it would be a good time to put on her night clothes. She looked over to her chair beside the bed and said, “There’s my robe.” She walked over to get it. She held it up. With hand signals, she asked if she should put it on. I told her yes.
These are just two more little things, but they fit a growing pattern of dependence on me to tell her what to do. It makes me sad.
