Robin’s mom


Painting is by Vincent Van Gogh
Robin’s mom
I’ve been wondering why this lady has still occupied my mind even though I physically left her behind on August 5 at the rehab center after knee surgery. Why does she still impinge my thoughts.
The twenty odd days I was there, I met her daily, three four times usually during meal times in the recreation room and early mornings without fail. Being a tea addict and an early riser, I usually grabbed my favorite tea brand and walker and painfully limped my way to the refrigerator and hot water machine in the kitchen area of the common room.
Invariably I would see Robin’s mom resplendent in her special wheel chair seated in front of the nursing station all dolled up and ready for breakfast. She must’ve been first on the long list of caregivers and nurse’s aides for morning sprucing and hence was readied first.
The minute she saw me approaching, she’d beckon me close and show her snow white socks’ clad feet and forlornly ask, ” Do you know where are my shoes are? How can I go dancing now?
Robin’s mom was all of 91 with ramrod straight spine, spare frail frame, patrician features, high cheek bones.
Her blue eyes were clear and she had a generous mop of snow white hair framing her lovely face.
The first time she asked me that question, I was taken aback. Then hastily recovering I consoled her that I would fetch her nurse and together we will find her shoes. Afterwards it became a daily query which I dodged mumbling something or other.
Robin came by early especially during mealtimes to personally feed her mom and was a very devoted daughter. It was rather heartwarming to see this.
It was during a game of bingo that Robin told me ‘thank god she has dementia otherwise her feisty fun loving spirit could not have borne her present state of utter dependance”.
May be I sensed in Robin’s mom a kindred spirit. I hope this will purge my recurring thoughts of her now.


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