Our Thanksgiving

Like so many other things, Thanksgiving has come and gone. Despite the rough beginning in the early morning hours, it was a nice day though it was bitter-sweet. There was no denying the dramatic change in Kate since last year when we were in Texas with our son’s family. I predicted then that it might be our last Thanksgiving with family, and it was.

I’m not at all sure what next year will be like, but I know Kate’s changes will not be for the better. Kate is unable to grasp this, but I am convinced by the things she says that she recognizes her condition is not good. She was essentially saying that when I went in to get her up for lunch yesterday morning. I said, “It’s Thanksgiving, and I’m thankful that I have you.” She reached up and grabbed both of my arms and said, “And I am thankful for you.” I said, “I know that.” She said, with emphasis and with a slightly sad expression on her face, “I want you to know I really mean it. I mean it.” She knows she couldn’t make it without my help and is very appreciative. I continue to be amazed at her self-awareness.

Since we eat out for lunch and dinner, finding a place to eat on Thanksgiving is a challenge. We did, however, have a good Thanksgiving meal at Ruth’s Chris. For a long time, Kate has been able to get along quite well without anyone’s suspecting she has Alzheimer’s. That is one of the big changes that has occurred in recent months. It was evident yesterday.

As the hostess walked us to our table, she was walking rather quickly. Kate is always very slow. The hostesses at our regular places are well aware and take their time. I decided to let this one know. We hadn’t gone far when I looked behind me and saw that Kate had stopped to talk with a woman at another table. I walked back and discovered that she was complimenting the woman on her hair. She was overdoing it, and I know the woman thought it somewhat strange. When we got to our table, we went through something with which I am accustomed. I am sure that our hostess was not. She was, of course, supposed to wait until we were seated and hand us our menus. It took what must have seemed to her an interminable amount of time for Kate to realize which seat was hers and to be seated. I was glad I had informed our hostess. She was very understanding.

After Kate’s making a few initial comments to our server, I handed her one of my Alzheimer’s cards. I was glad that I had although she might have guessed anyway. Both when I ordered and when the food arrived, Kate asked, “What is that?” She was referring to the sweet potato casserole. She also asked the same question when I ordered a filet for us to split. I think she was confused about the whole situation. We are not regulars at Ruth’s Chris, and it had an air of formality that we don’t experience at most other restaurants. She was very concerned about doing something wrong and asked my advice a number of times. That is not something unusual, but the way she asked sounded like she was more uneasy about this situation.

Despite these things, the lunch went quite well. There were two other couples seated at the tables beside us, but the sound was quite muffled. We felt a certain measure of privacy even though the restaurant was packed. We had a good conversation and talked about the many things for which we are thankful.

Once we were home, Kate wanted to rest and did so for about an hour before getting up. I asked if she would like me to read The Velveteen Rabbit to her. She did. She was more enthusiastic this time than before. Once again, I was also touched. It is so good to see her enjoy herself in this way.

It didn’t take long to finish. Then I asked if she would like me to read some of the Diary of Anne Frank. In spite of her previous interest, I was a little afraid this would sound like too much for her. I am glad to say I was wrong. We read another 20 pages. As I did before, I asked if she wanted me to continue after each entry. We only stopped because it was time for dinner.

It was another good day for us. The meaning of this holiday did not fall on deaf ears. Each of us experienced the spirit of Thanksgiving.