Still Having Great Times

Earlier this week, I saw a tweet that staff at facilities often view all of their dementia patients as though they are in the late stages and treat them accordingly. I replied that I believe most people do the same thing when they learn that someone has dementia. We only think of the symptoms that occur in the late stages. I believe that is the reason many friends and family members take so long to recognize that someone has the disease. Although the pace at which Alzheimer’s progresses varies from person to person, there is often a long period of time during which the person with dementia is able to function quite well. Some experts say that the disease may begin as early as twenty years before getting a diagnosis. I’ll never know the starting point for Kate. I know that she thought she had Alzheimer’s at least five years before her diagnosis. That will be thirteen years ago in January.

During that period of time, Kate’s symptoms have gradually become more and more obvious to her and to me. They are less obvious to many other people we are around. I am grateful for that. It has allowed us to continue an active social life much longer than I would have expected. It’s not just that we are active. We still have very good times. That was true yesterday.

It was one of those days when she slept late. It took me over an hour to get her up. We didn’t get to lunch until nearly 1:00. Despite her wanting to stay in bed, she was in a cheerful mood. We didn’t do anything special until the evening. It was jazz night at Casa Bella. The music was beautiful, and the crowd was especially enthusiastic. Kate may have been more enthusiastic than most. The program always consists of many ballads and standards with which people our age are quite familiar. At one point, I looked across the table at Kate and noticed she was mouthing the words to many of the songs.

For the past year, another couple has joined our table for jazz night. Last night, Kate sat by the wife and I sat by her husband. During one of the breaks, I asked the man if he was aware of Kate’s Alzheimer’s. This is something I like for people to know because she sometimes says or does something that might seem a little unusual. He said he and his wife were aware. Then he added that if he didn’t know, he wouldn’t be able to tell. He felt she gets along quite well.

I thought she was especially alert yesterday. I had NPR on the radio and Kate asked, “What’s her name?” She was referring to the newscaster, but I wasn’t sure and said, “My name or hers?” She laughed and gave me a look that said, “Are you kidding?” and said, “You thought I forgot your name?” I didn’t say a word about how often she does ask.

There were other times during the day that she did ask my name. On the whole, however, she seemed to relate to me as her husband. Something else I have noticed makes me feel she comes in and out of those moments when she doesn’t know me. That is in bed at night. She often rolls over and puts her arm around me. There are also times that she wakes up when I get up to go to the bathroom. In those cases, she often moves closer to me and puts her arm around me when I get back in bed.

We are approaching seven years and ten months since her diagnosis, and thirteen years since the first signs. Kate’s symptoms are much greater now than at that time. She has declined significantly more in 2018 than in any other year. That has been especially true in the past six months. But we still have great times, and I am hopeful they will last a while longer.

No Wake Up Call Necessary Yesterday

After having to wake her for five consecutive days, Kate got up on her own shortly after 10:00 yesterday. About 10:45, I checked on her and found that she had taken her shower and gotten back in bed. At 11:20, I checked again. She was still in bed and said she needed clothes. When she went to take her shower, she had her clothes in her arms. I went to the bathroom and brought them to her. She asked for her underwear. I couldn’t find them but knew that she had them earlier. I pulled back the sheet where she had been resting. There they were.

I went back to the bathroom to straighten up. She had used the two bath towels I had  out for her, but she had gotten into the drawer where I keep the wash cloths and hand towels. She had pulled out several of each that were thrown on the floor.

She put on her top. I reached up and straightened it for her. She shrugged and said, “You have to remember that I am capable of some things.”  As she started to put on her shoes, I was about to leave. She said, “Wait a minute. Don’t leave until I tell you.” These words sound harsher in written form than they were to me. She was trying to say, “I might need your help.” I stayed for a few minutes. When she appeared to be getting along fine, I said I was going to the kitchen. She didn’t stop me. A few minutes later, I heard her say, “Hey.” When I got to the bedroom, she wasn’t wearing her pants. She didn’t say a word, she knew I would understand. She couldn’t find them. I walked over to the chair in which she had been sitting and picked up the pants and gave them to her. She gave me a sheepish look and said, “Thank you.” For the rest of the day she was fine.

Since it was past noon, we skipped her muffin at Panera and went directly to lunch. Afterward, we came home for about forty minutes. She took that opportunity for a nap. She seems to have been tired all week, but not necessarily at bedtime. It makes me think about her sleep patterns as a sign of significant change. This started at the end of March when she started sleeping later in the morning. Since then her sleep as been erratic. She definitely gets up later than she used to, but once every week or so she surprises me and gets up early. That hasn’t happened over the past week.

Her sleep pattern has been accompanied by greater memory problems, confusion, greater dependence on me, and minor discomfort at my leaving her with a sitter. I know greater change is ahead. I just don’t know how quickly it will occur. If the current decline continues at the same pace, I am afraid it will be sooner rather than later. We are now less than four weeks away from our trip to Texas for Thanksgiving. Despite the changes that are occurring, it seems to me that we will be able to make it.

I have detected another minor change this week. Until the last day or two, she has called me by name when I was in another room and she needed something. Several times this week, she has just said, “Hey.” I take that as a sign that it is getting harder for her to think of my name. That would not be a big surprise. I have been well aware that she can’t remember my name most of the time. It’s just that she has been able to remember when she needs something. That may be going away.

Although she still asks me my name, her name, and the names of our children, she is more frequently asking, “Where are we?” This is something she done for a long time. It’s just happening more frequently. Coming home from Casa Bella last night, she asked me several times where we were.

Speaking of Casa Bella, we were there for Broadway night last night. This was a more spectacular program than others we have attended there. That’s an overstatement since the only accompaniment was a keyboard, no sets, and singers used music. There were, however, six singers instead of the customary two. All the music was from Les Miserables. Regular readers will remember that this is our favorite musical, and Kate was as taken by this production as she has been by the 25th anniversary concert in London. While there is no comparison between last night’s program and that one, the music is always good, and the singers were outstanding. Kate responded with tears and soft, but audible, Continue reading “No Wake Up Call Necessary Yesterday”

The Power of Music (Again)

As Kate loses more of her memory and experiences more confusion, I am happy to say that music continues to be uplifting for her and, of course, for me. I enjoy both the music and seeing her derive so much pleasure. It has led me to experiment a little more. As I mentioned in a previous post, I replaced a DVD of Sound of Music when she didn’t put down her iPad to watch. I wondered if she would respond differently to Les Miserables, her (and my) favorite musical. She responded immediately by putting down the iPad and watching intently. Last night, I picked up where we left off the previous night. Once again, she was quickly engaged. Periodically, she audibly expressed her pleasure. At one point she said, “I know we’ve seen this before, but I’m enjoying it just as much as this time.” That was the first time I recall her indicating that she had seen it before. I didn’t tell her it was the seventh time in the past seven or eight weeks.

Incidentally, I believe it is more than the music itself that causes Les Miserables to have such an impact on her. That musical is sometimes referred to as one of the most operatic of Broadway musicals. That is because virtually all the dialogue is sung the way it is in operas. That is especially true in the concert version that we have been watching. The production moves continuously from one song to another. That way she doesn’t get lost in the plot. All the other musicals we have are traditional in that there is a lot of dialogue in between songs. She can’t follow those. Thus, she can’t appreciate that part. Les Miserables allows her to simply enjoy the music without worrying about the plot at all.

In the past week, I have applied music to two other situations. The first is in the morning about 15-20 minutes before I would like her to get up. I’ve played a Joshua Bell album of very soft, melodic music. Yesterday, I asked if it bothered her. She said, “No, I love it.” It also seems to have the effect of gently waking her. I make sure that the volume is not too low, or she might sleep even longer.

That leads to my second experiment. I’ve always liked playing music at bedtime, but she has usually asked me to turn it off. The past few nights I have played an album of Russian sacred music. I had the volume turned down very low, but she noticed. She said, “That’s beautiful music. I like it.” It is ideal music for meditation, and I am hoping she finds it a relaxing way to drift off to sleep.

I have always told Kate that if I ever had a stroke I wanted her to make sure to play music for me. I went so far as to say that I was going to write down types of music and specific albums to play at different times of the day. I’ve never actually done that, but the advent of the iPod gave me the idea of storing my entire music library on one and creating the appropriate playlists. Now that technology has evolved even more, I do have my entire library on my phone. The funny thing is that with streaming there is little need for that. I still haven’t created those playlists, but I’m a lot closer to getting there. I never guessed that I would be playing music for Kate rather than her playing for me.

Much has been written about the power of music with people with dementia. I don’t need any formal studies to prove it to me. It has been great therapy for both of us.

Kate and Music

Yesterday’s musical experience with Ellen had gone so well that after we got home last night, I turned on our TV to YouTube. I did a quick search of several other types of music videos we might enjoy with her or just for ourselves. I noticed a performance of Dvorak’s “Symphony from the New World” by the New York Philharmonic. I’ve loved it since I was introduced to it in our high school band and orchestra. I turned it on while Kate was working jigsaw puzzles on her iPad. In a few minutes, I noticed that she had put the iPad down and was absorbed with the music. It was 43 minutes long, and she watched the entire performance and loved it.

I’ve often mentioned that music has played an important role in our marriage starting with our first date. I don’t believe I have ever said that Kate’s musical tastes have always been narrower than my own. She has always enjoyed some classical music, but it has been limited to a few familiar works. We have had season tickets to our local symphony since the late 1980s. She has always attended because I was drawn to the music. She was not. In recent years, she has been even less enthusiastic. I think we attended only one concert this past year. The primary reason is that she is often tired after dinner. Except for our music nights at Casa Bella that start at 6:00, we haven’t scheduled anything at night in a long time.

Given that she hasn’t enjoyed classical music as much as I do, I’ve been somewhat surprised and pleased that she now seems to enjoy a much broader range of music like the Dvorak symphony she watched/listened to last night. Even more surprising is her appreciation of some of my favorite sacred choral music. She has never liked what she refers to as my “monk” music. Just yesterday, I played an album of sacred music by a Russian choral group and asked how she liked it. She said, “It’s beautiful.” I couldn’t believe it.

I’ve begun to wonder why the change. Could it be that its because she has heard me play so much classical music over the years? That would be a reasonable guess and, perhaps, the correct answer. On the other hand, could it have something to do with her Alzheimer’s. Maybe she has become more dependent on music as she has lost her ability to engage in other types of pleasure like working in the yard or working on photo albums on her computer.

I don’t think I will ever know for sure, but I am inclined to think that our binging on music since her diagnosis has led to a greater appreciation of a broader range of musical genres. We’ve been attending opera night at Casa Bella for most of the time since her diagnosis. The same is true for attendance at both the Live in HD at the Met productions and live opera performances as well. In addition, as part of my own therapy, I play music virtually the entire time I am at home. Thus, she has been exposed to music more than ever before. To me, the “why” is not so important. It’s just something I wonder about. The best thing is that we are enjoying more music together than every before.

I should also add that she doesn’t like all music. She frequently comments about the music we hear in restaurants. She tends to prefer softer more melodic music. That includes a lot of older songs and ballads and songs from popular musicals. I am sensitive to these preferences in my own musical selections. It seems to work for both of us.

Yesterday was a full but good day.

A lot happened yesterday, and I know I won’t be able to capture all of the relevant things I would like. That’s probably a good thing. I’ve always admired people who seem to be able to recall the details of their experiences during a day. I’ve never been particular good at that, but I’ll try.

I need to back up to Sunday. That afternoon Kate took a two-hour nap. I finally woke her up and suggested we go to Barnes & Noble. I was concerned that she might not be able to get to sleep that night. It turned out that I was right. She was in a talkative mood at bedtime. I don’t know when she got to sleep. I know she was awake about 11:30. That concerned me because I knew we planned to drive to Nashville yesterday morning to have lunch with our friends Ann and Jeff Davis before paying a visit to Kate’s very close friend, Ellen, who is now in a memory care facility.

Kate surprised me. I knew that she was awake when I got up at 6:00, but I expected that she would go right back to sleep, and I would have to wake her to get ready. Instead, I heard her getting ready about 7:30. This was another time that I had gotten our bathroom ready for her shower only to find that she had gotten up earlier and showered in another bathroom.

She had already picked out the pants she wanted to wear. I went to her closet and picked out three tops and let her choose the one she liked best. I also put out her shoes and socks. When she came out ready to go, she was wearing a golf shirt that must have been mine by the size of it. It fit her like a tunic and had TCU emblazoned on the shirt pocket. She was also wearing shoes and socks that were not the ones I had picked out and didn’t match as well. I didn’t say anything about the shirt, but I did bring her the shoes and socks. She didn’t complain at all and simply changed them.

Before leaving, I mentioned that we were going to have lunch with the Davises. She frowned and said, “You’ll have to tell me something about our children that I can tell them.” I mentioned a few things. We both realized this wasn’t going to work. She said, “You’ll just have to do the talking.” I should emphasize that she wasn’t upset about visiting with the Davises; it was her own insecurity about her memory. This is another good illustration of how long into this journey she has been able to recognize her problem and to be insecure about it. She exhibited a similar reaction after our visit with Ellen.

As it turned out, the conversation with the Davises went very smoothly. A lot had happened since our last visit, so Kate didn’t get put on the spot to say anything about our children. They asked about our children, and I answered for her. It was a nice visit.

From there we went to Ellen’s. We found that she had declined noticeably since we saw her three weeks ago. We could understand very little of what she said. We also found she is beginning to exhibit a few of the symptoms that accompany dementia. One of those occurred shortly after we arrived. I had taken a DVD of Les Miserables. I had intended to play a portion of it later in our visit, but communication was so difficult that I put it on not long after got there. Initially, Ellen was quite interested. She was even a little disturbed when some of the staff were talking loudly and made it more difficult for us to hear. Then she turned around in her wheel chair and started to leave the room. I asked where she was going. Through a few words that I could pick up and her gestures, including touching her hair, I discovered that she thought she had an appointment with the hair dresser. I checked and found that the hair dresser doesn’t come until Wednesday. Then Ellen wanted us to go back to her room where we spent almost the entire visit.

Once we reached her room, I got out my iPad and opened the YouTube app, and we had an hour-long “concert” of music performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. That was a winner. She and Kate became engrossed in the music. We only stopped when it was near the time for us to leave, and Ellen wanted to use the bathroom. I called one of the attendants to help her and closed up the iPad.

As we walked to our car, Kate said, “I’m so sad.” She was disturbed to see Ellen had changed. She also seemed to be concerned that the staff had no awareness that Ellen was a musician (singer, pianist, choir director, and TV producer). We had mentioned this to someone the last time we were there, but, of course, the message doesn’t get around to everyone. Then Kate said, “I’m so glad I have you to take care of me.” I don’t know exactly what was going on in her mind. It sounded like she was thinking about herself and happy that she was at home under my care. In the car, she expressed her appreciation to me. She said, “I couldn’t get along without you. Well, I could get along, but it wouldn’t be the same.” She paused and said admittingly, “I really couldn’t get along without you.” She displays far more awareness of her situation and other people than I would have expected at this stage.

We capped off our day by eating at the same place we had eaten the last time we visited Ellen. It’s a bit fancier and pricier than what we are accustomed to but made for another special time together. I had a delicious sangria followed by an Ahi Tuna entrée. Kate had grilled trout that was quite good. She said it as “OK,” but she ate all of it along with the creamed spinach that came with it. We topped it off with a calorie-laden bread pudding.

The trip home was uneventful. That’s a good thing. It was another good day for us.

Music Comes to the Rescue Again

About an hour before we went to bed last night, I played another portion of Fiddler on the Roof that we had started Sunday night. I thought about taking it out and going back to Les Miserables which has been a clear winner every time I have played it, but Fiddler has been her second favorite as well as mine. I am glad to say that she enjoyed it once again. This is the movie version in which Topol plays the part of Tevye. She really likes him and often expresses it in the different scenes in which he plays a central role. She also comments on particular songs, saying something like “Oh, I like this one.” It is always a pleasure to see her enjoying herself in this way.

It is interesting that she continues working on her iPad while watching. That is her typical way of watching all of the musicals except Les Miserables. Any time I put it on, she drops her iPad at the first sound of music and doesn’t pick it up again. I’m not entirely sure why she finds Les Miserables so gripping. Clearly, part of it is the music. Part of it is the acting. I think it is also the fact that this one is a concert and not the stage production. That puts greater emphasis directly on the music as well as the singers. There are lots of close up shots of the singers who are very expressive as they sing. Kate finds them very moving. Whatever the reasons, she is absorbed by this particular production. It has been good therapy, and I plan to continue using it.

A Welcomed Rebound

I always like to report good news. That’s especially true when we have experienced a few bumps the day before. In every instance of the bumps, we have moved on to the next day as though nothing had happened. That was true yesterday.

Kate slept late, so we went straight to lunch. She was in a good mood, and neither of us acted as though life hadn’t been perfect the night before. Because I went to a Rotary benefit last night, we didn’t have a sitter in the afternoon. That allowed Kate and me to spend the afternoon together. After lunch, we came back home where I turned on some music, and we relaxed in the family room. I picked out a number of things that I thought she would enjoy and was successful. I have been pleased that she not only seems to enjoy music even more than she has in the past, but she also seems to appreciate a somewhat wider range of music. She certainly expresses her pleasure both audibly and visibly. Among the music I played were two pieces from Handel’s Messiah, “Hallelujah” and “Worth is the Lamb, Amen.” I don’t ever recall her responding so passionately before. It is a special pleasure for me to see her so engaged in music that I love as well.

We spent about two hours and then went to Barnes & Noble for another hour and a half before returning home for me to get ready for my dinner. I suggested to Mary that she take Kate to get her usual Friday night pizza. I also set up the Les Miserables DVD in case they wanted to watch some of it. When I got home, I was pleased to see that they were both engrossed in it. This was the first time that Mary had seen it and liked it. For Kate, of course, it was like seeing it for the first time. When Mary left, Kate blew her a kiss and thanked her. She was in great spirits.

Since Kate was enjoying herself so much, we watched the remainder before going to bed. This is a three-hour production. Kate and I usually watch it in three nights. Last night, Kate had watched the entire DVD in a single sitting, and she was literally moved to tears of joy.

Music has always been special to me. Attending live musical performances has been a special part of our married life. It is only recently that she has developed such appreciation for recorded music. That makes me happy. I play it all the time. If I’m at home, the chances are pretty good that music is playing.

The Power of Music (Again)

Yesterday, Kate and I went to see our good friend, Ellen, who now lives in Nashville. Although I had to wake her, Kate got up, showered and dressed in an hour. That gave us time to get a quick lunch at Panera before we hit the road. We arrived in time for their Sunday afternoon ice cream. That was a little treat for us. In the past, we have always arrived later. That’s because we have frequently had lunch or a quick visit with our friends the Robinsons or Davises who also live in Nashville. I did not try to get together with them this time since I have been unsure about what time I would be able to get Kate ready. Going directly to Ellen’s avoided any pressure. This may become our regular routine.

Since Ellen was already in the dining area, we stayed there our entire two-hour visit. That has its pluses and minuses. Last time we had spent our visit in Ellen’s room. It is a nice room but a little darker than the common areas. We may split our time between the two next time.

This was our third visit to this particular facility since Ellen moved there in May. She had made the move after having a couple of seizures that, on top of the stroke she had three years ago this month, required greater care than she had needed previously. We were eager to see if there had been any change in her ability to speak. There had been a change, but it was not for the better.  We could understand very little of what she said. Of greater concern was that she didn’t try to talk as much. She was always a big talker. After her stroke, she continued to talk a lot. That was a natural part of her personality, but I believe it may also have related to the fact she has been so socially isolated. She had lived in Knoxville for over forty years and has lots of friends here. It is not so easy for them to travel to Nashville. I only know of one other couple who has visited her in the past three years.

The saddest part for me is that mentally Ellen is in much better shape than the most of the other residents. If she could only talk, she might be able to establish a relationship with a couple of them. That appears to be impossible at this point.

Remembering that on our last visit, the three of us had enjoyed listening to a little music on my phone, I went thinking that we might try it again. It turned out to be even better than last time. Then I just played a few pieces of music I thought she would like. This time I played a greater variety and played music for a longer time, a full thirty minutes. At a couple of points, I was a little concerned that I might be playing too much, but she said she was enjoying it.

It may seem strange to think of the three of us sitting together in the middle of a common area of a memory care facility listening to music from a phone, but for us it was a special moment. For a short period, one of other residents joined us, but she wanted the volume turned up, and it was already as high as it would go.

We stopped when it was nearing time for dinner. The last time we stayed during dinner we found that another resident dominated the conversation. Ellen was left out. Since Ellen gets so few social encounters with friends, I want to maximize our time with her. I’m already thinking about our next few visits. I may take our DVD of Les Miserables. Even though it is too long for us to play on a single visit, she could enjoy it the way Kate and I do at home, a little bit at a time. I may also take a Bluetooth speaker for either my phone or computer. There is a tremendous amount of music on YouTube I could play for her.

Knowing that both Kate and Ellen are declining, I am unsure how long we will be able to continue our visits. Until then, we’ll do just what we do at home, take it one step at a time.

Increasing Dependence and Confusion

After returning from lunch yesterday, Kate and I took a moment for a break at home before the arrival of the sitter. A few minutes before Mary arrived, Kate walked into the kitchen with her iPad tucked under her arm and carrying her cup. She was obviously ready to leave for Panera or Barnes & Noble. I told her that I was going to the Y and run some errands. She quickly, but meekly like a child, said, “Can I come with you?” I told her that Mary would be staying with her. She accepted that without a problem. It wasn’t long before the doorbell rang. Kate said, “Who is that?” I told her it was probably Mary who was coming in at that very moment. We both greeted her, and Kate seemed fine. Then I said I was going to the Y. Once again, Kate asked if she could go with me. I told her that Mary would be with her. She said, “What if I want something to eat?” I reminded her that Mary has a card she can use at Panera to buy whatever she wants. Again, she seemed to accept that without any questions. Then I left.

When I returned, she and Mary were in the family room with the TV on. Kate was working jigsaw puzzles on her iPad. Mary left. I walked over to Kate’s chair and kneeled so that I could look directly in her eyes. I told her I was glad to see her and that I loved her. She said, “I love you too even if I don’t know who you are.” I said, “I think you really know who I am, but you have trouble remembering my name. Isn’t that right?” She looked very puzzled but didn’t speak. I said, “You do remember that I am your husband, don’t you?” She didn’t answer. Then I said, “Knowing my name is not very important. You do know that you have known me a long time. We’ve been married 55 years, but it’s not important that you remember that. The important thing is that we love each other and that we can enjoy our lives together.” She nodded. The way she had responded or failed to respond to my questions makes me think that the connection with my name is almost gone and that her awareness of the nature of our relationship (that is, that I am her husband) is disappearing as well. I really do take comfort in the fact that we will still be able to enjoy our lives together, but there is no denying that we are in the process of a significant change. I didn’t need anything to convince me of that, but there was still more to come.

We went out for our Friday night pizza. When we got home, she wanted to brush her teeth. She stopped as she entered our family room and said, “I’ll follow you.” This is the second time recently that she has done this. She just didn’t remember how to get there. We went back to the family room after brushing our teeth. I turned on the evening news. She worked on her iPad.

About thirty minutes passed, when she asked for my help with her puzzle. She has been doing this more frequently in the past few weeks, especially the past week. She had completed all but 4 pieces of a 16-piece puzzle. Before I could do anything to help, she said, “Just complete it for me.” I did, and helped her get another puzzle. She was having a problem figuring out how to do it. This is a new problem.

I was seated across from her writing this post when I noticed that she was sitting in her chair with a confused look. I decided it would be good for her to take a break and enjoy something more passively. I suggested we go to our bedroom and watch a little of Les Miserables. She liked the idea.

She was quickly engaged and enjoying herself. It was just as though this were the first time she had seen it, not the fifth time in five weeks. We took a break at the intermission. She asked, “Where are we?” I said, “Knoxville, Tennessee.” In a moment, she asked, “If someone asked me where I live, what should I say?” I said, “I would say that I live in Knoxville, Tennessee. We’ve lived here a long time. I was an English teacher and then a school librarian before retiring and serving nineteen years as our church’s librarian.”

That led her to talk again about our good fortune to find each other and how much we enjoyed the same things. I told her I felt the same way. Then I took my shower, and she put on her night gown. When we were ready for the next half, she was tired and went to bed. It was before 9:00, so I stayed up a while. I offered to turn off the TV, but she said she was enjoying listening to the music. In a few minutes, I got in bed with her. She kept repeating how much she liked the fact that we both liked things like this and could share them together. This is something she has picked up from me. I was glad to see that it must have had an impact. Otherwise, she would never have remembered it. I am especially glad that we have had the good fortune to share a love for this particular musical. I don’t think I would have ever played it five times in five weeks were it not for her, but I have enjoyed it every bit as much as she.

I was glad we were able to end the day on a high note. I still feel sad about her increasing confusion and loss of of memory, but I treasure her moments of pleasure. They are mine as well.

Would you believe a fourth trip to see the Mr. Rogers’ documentary?

We had a full but very nice day yesterday. Kate was up early enough for us to make our trip to Panera, something that has been off and on lately. We were there about an hour and a half before leaving for lunch at Bluefin. From there we came back home for almost an hour before leaving for a movie.

When we were with our friends on Thursday, we learned that one of them had not seen Won’t You Be My Neighbor? She is 93 and is in excellent health and quite active. She said that one of our pastors had mentioned it in a sermon recently and wanted to see it. I called her Friday afternoon and asked if we could take her. We went yesterday afternoon. She loved it, and so did Kate who gave no sign that she remembered having seen it before. This goes down as the most times I have ever seen one movie. And I still enjoyed it.

Following the movie we went to dinner with our friend. Then we dropped her off and came back home where we relaxed a bit before retiring to the bedroom where we capped off the day watching the last of Fiddler on the Roof. I think this is my favorite musical after Les Miserables. I like each of them for different reasons. The music and then the story draws me to Les Miserables, but it’s the story and then the music that I love about Fiddler. I play them frequently for Kate. This and seeing Mr. Rogers a fourth time are good examples of my deriving pleasure from the same things that make her happy. I am grateful. We are very fortunate.