Sympathy goes far but politics is exempt

Masterful quilter showing works at library's Folklife Center

Every day is a test, and I wonder if I’m passing or even improving.

It’s hard to tell, since Bella’s symptoms from Alzheimer’s disease are always changing. 

Mostly, I try to keep us moving. The day starts with quiet, as I get up a few hours before dawn to do things like write this column and have one stretch when I’m alone.

Bella gets up every 20 or 30 minutes, starting around 5, wandering toward the staircase until I pull her back.

“I can’t find one of my shoes,” she said Friday.

I looked at her feet — two socks, no shoes — and steered her back to bed.

“You don’t have to put them on until later, Sweetie,” I said. “You’re OK.”

I give up between 6 and 7, and we brush our teeth and put her sneakers on or her fuzzy boots and open the gate at the top of the stairs and walk down, carefully, for toast and coffee in the library.

Bella is always hungry these days, which is great, because she nearly starved herself to death this past summer.

“It’s freezing in this house,” she says.

I cover her with a blanket and make hot cocoa.

Ringo curls up on the couch, and I read the news on my phone and comment, trying to catch Bella’s interest.

She loves stories about Trump, the villain.

“Can’t someone just shoot him?” she says.

“I don’t think so,” I say.

She puts herself inside stories.

“I was there,” she says of Gaza. “I told them to stop it, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“You told who to stop what?” I say.

“I told them … that those children should not be swimming at the beach. It’s too cold for that.”

“It is much too cold for swimming,” I say.

I don’t know what she gathers from stories I read aloud or TV shows we watch. Much of it seems to pass like the view out the window of a moving car — one scene after another, lacking context.

I try to lengthen our activities, but getting through 12 hours is a challenge.

We run errands, Bella sitting in the car with Ringo while I go into the store or the bank. We go to the coffee shop and recently found that Kru, next to Domino’s, welcomes dogs and serves sweet hot chocolate.

A dog is a great conversation piece, so we chat with people who have their own in tow or want to pet Ringo.

“He’s wonderful,” says Bella. “I sleep with him every night.”

“Of course,” people say.

Alzheimer’s tests people’s poise, but everyone passes. I see the flicker of understanding, and I see their kindness and grace.

Walking around with someone who needs your care brings out the best in others, as they find ways to connect without condescension.

Almost all of us can meet in a place of consideration, although there are exceptions. I will never forget watching Donald Trump mock a disabled reporter. We are so much better than that, which is why I’m confounded by our national circumstances.

We exist in two worlds at once — one where we are inclined toward sympathy and understanding and another where half of us worship a brute.

Wanderings

Cole’s Woods was muddy on Saturday, so we went to Hovey Pond Park for a walk. It was chilly out but sunny, and several other walkers were circling the pond. We came upon one pair of ducks, which were alone on the water, drifting and tipping up for snacks in the shallows.

Quilts

An exhibition of the marvelous works of quilter Connie Harris Farrington will be shown downstairs in Crandall Public Library Nov. 16-18, with a reception from 5-8 p.m. Nov. 16, which is Thursday. I met Connie years ago when we were both shivering in the early line for a library book sale and have gotten to know her a bit over the years. She’s a sharp thinker with a broad knowledge of local history and genealogy. Her quilts are humorous, historical and beautiful. 

Connie Farrington stands next to one of her quilts in her home a few years ago.