mosses monday XIV...

The den was toasty, as there was a fire roaring in the fireplace. The antiquated, artificial tree with the exposed, 2 foot metal pole trunk was aglow with multi-colored fairy lights and trimmed with homemade angel ornaments and thick bunches of silver tinsel. Mrs. Moss and I were in the kitchen preparing finger foods and drinks for our loved ones. 

As I stood at the sink washing out Katherine’s sippy cup, I noticed a barge traveling up the icy Ohio River. Mrs. Moss walked over to me and handed me a soda to fill Katherine’s cup. She paused next to me and joined me looking out the window.

"Isn’t George wonderful, Dani..." she asked rhetorically in her gravelly, sophisticated voice.  

I smiled in total agreement… needing no further explanation.  

She turned toward the window, pointed, and continued, “He brought me that tree all the way down here from our house for the holidays.”

My smile grew bigger. I sat down Katherine’s cup and leaned over and kissed her cheek. Just as Alzheimer’s was robbing her of her mind, God continued to fill her sweet heart to overflowing.

She continued, "I don't really like being here for the holidays, but George said it isn't time to go home just yet. I am just so happy you, John, and the ‘Sugarplum’ are here...”

We took the refreshments into the den, toasted the holiday, and prepared to leave for dinner. (I had made reservations at Hunan’s, our local Chinese bistro.)

When we arrived the hostess escorted us to our table. Mr. Moss took Mrs. Moss' coat, and John took Katherine’s and mine. As the two made their way over to hang our coats, we three girls took our seats. The restaurant was rather crowded with many familiar faces- though Mrs. Moss didn't seem to notice. Anna, the restaurant owner, brought Mr. Moss' black coffee with a straw to the table. She asked if we would be having "the regular". We all smiled and nodded, yes. Anna, returned with the rest of our drinks and let us know our soup was on its way.

As I looked around, I noticed a group of people several tables over from ours was preparing to leave. They donned their coats and headed towards our table. The foursome happened to be a few of our fellow church parishioners. After Mr. Moss stood and greeted them with a warm, southern, gentleman's, How do you do?, we all arose as well and exchanged hugs, hand-shakes, and Merry Christmas wishes.

As the couples walked away from our table, we returned to our seats. Mrs. Moss looked toward Mr. Moss and said, "George, I can't believe how many people are down here from home.”

“Mommie," Mr. Moss was having a terrible time understanding and accepting Mrs. Moss' Alzheimer's, “where do you think you are?"

I reached under the table and took Mrs. Moss' soft, warm, frail hand in mine. She smiled at him and replied, "Florida."
 ~@~ 
(to be continued...)

love and God's blessings,
dani xx

ps you will find earlier entries in ascending order on my side bar entitled, "our love story":)