Is it Saturday? Oh. No. It’s Sunday already. And I’m late again for my own party.

I remember my mother calling me (and many other people) a cheeky bugger often. I was very cheeky indeed when I was younger. And when my mum was younger, too.

We took her out today to a restaurant to celebrate her 90th birthday. She only remembered when someone mentioned it. And she can’t remember how old she is. I can tell her and she’ll forget again in under a minute. Under 30 seconds, even.

But she’s still smoking. Her breathing sounds horrible–the nurse at the home asked me if I wanted to send her to the hospital tonight, but I can’t be there with her, so the nurse said they’ll keep an eye on her. She has a puffer. My mum, that is. I don’t know if the nurse has one.

It’s rotten, getting old.

My mother never gets involved in conversations. Can’t make decisions. The simplest things confuse her, like whether or not she should have two creams in her coffee or one. In that case, it’s not that she can’t decide, it’s that she doesn’t understand the concept.

But, she still knows she wants to smoke.

Perhaps it’s the only thing that keeps her alert.

Not sure how I got from “cheeky” to here. Ah well. Such is stream of consciousness writing.

This post is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the following link to find the other participants’ posts in the comment section and see how you, too, can join in! It’s fun! https://lindaghill.com/2020/02/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-15-2020/