A change....

Margie was not her usual self today. I let myself into her apartment and found her reading yesterday’s New York Times, but she looked at me and seemed confused. I’m Kendall, I said, and I’ve come to see you as I do every week. “Oh yeah,” she nodded, relieved. Blinking her eyes as if to clear away fog, she gestured to her walker and said, “Good. I’m hungry. Let’s go have lunch, I’m paying.”

I led her to the place across the street, and she leaned on the walker more heavily than usual. Her gait was unsteady, and several times I caught her as she almost fell. She ate a Tabouli salad with gusto and asked repeatedly why I wasn’t eating. I explained each time, I’ve already had lunch, thanks. She drank her cappuccino and closed her eyes. 

I said your sons are arriving Friday to celebrate your birthday, and she half-opened her eyes and laughed. I pulled out the camera and photographed her amazement. “How old will I be?” Ninety-nine. “If you ask me…” she began, and then her voice trailed off and her eyes closed again.

We sat in silence. After a while I gathered our cups and saucers, and she said, “Let’s go for a walk,” but when she tried to stand up, she only made it halfway up and sat back down. I sat beside her and held her hand, wondering if I might have to call for an ambulance to take her home, but after a while she opened her eyes and pulled herself together. “My eyes weren’t ready,” she explained, laughing.

I guided her back to her apartment and into her chair. Her sons arrive Friday, so I won’t visit again this week. I’m invited to a 99th birthday brunch on Monday.