The other day I commented on my concern about Kate’s eyesight. At Casa Bella the other night we experienced another example of the problem. In this case, it illustrates the impact it can have on her and also her dependence on me.
The room had been rearranged to accommodate the needs of the various sized groups. The table for our group was set up for nine. That immediately caused me to wonder how Kate would adapt to a larger group. More people at the table means it is more difficult for her to understand the conversation. That makes the whole dining experience less comfortable for her.
I have always seated Kate on the side of the table that would give her the best view of the musicians. This time, however, her side was close to the back wall of the room, and she would have been in the middle with two people on either side of her. I decided it would be easier for her to get in if she took the side with her back to the musicians. The way the table was positioned I thought she could easily turn to see them as they performed.
Of course, there was no problem during the first hour before the music started. We were able to order and eat our meal while conversing at the same time. Once the music started, Kate turned her attention to the musicians. It wasn’t long before I noticed that she had a worried look on her face. She began to look around the room in all directions. I realized that she had lost sight of me and was concerned. She turned to the man beside her and said, “Have you seen my husband?” He didn’t hear her, so he didn’t respond. I reached my hand across the table and touched her arm. She looked across the table but didn’t recognize me. I grasped her hand. She looked more closely. Then she realized it was me. She heaved a great sigh of relief. I don’t know that anyone else observed her, but she was very noticeably disturbed when she didn’t see me and equally relieved when she finally did. This was another occasion when I felt like I will soon need to change our seating arrangement. I am going to try to hold off a little longer while I consider what is best for Kate. At the moment I still think a table for two would be best in the long run.
Right now there is something else I am thinking about. Casa Bella is preparing to celebrate its eightieth anniversary. They are planning a kickoff dinner in September and have made arrangements with the city to block off the street in front of the restaurant for a special Italian dinner. There won’t be any seating in the restaurant itself. I have made reservations, but I am concerned that being in such a large crowd might be overwhelming for her. I imagine they will have musical entertainment, but it won’t be like the more intimate venue inside the restaurant. I have avoided situations like this for more than a year. On the other hand, we feel close to the owners of the restaurant and the people we have met at the regular music nights. I hate to miss this event.
Apart from Kate’s uneasiness because she didn’t see me, we had a great night. Kate thoroughly enjoyed the music even more than she has at a few other recent music nights. I was happy about that.
As the situation at Casa Bella illustrates, her dependence on me is increasing significantly. It is obvious in a variety of situations. One is in her expressions of relief when I come home after the sitter has been here. I also see it around the house when she doesn’t know where I am and doesn’t remember the various rooms where I might be. Yesterday, for the first time, she thought I might be leaving her in the house alone. She had gotten up early again and taken a shower. Then she got back in bed. I told her I would get her up when it was time for lunch but to call me if she needed me. She looked scared and said, “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” I said, “I would never leave you alone. I will be in the kitchen.” She was greatly relieved.
