A happy thing

I wonder about mom's cognitive capabilities frequently. The lingering aphasia is a challenge, especially given my mother's poor communication even when i was growing up. (Lots of pronouns and relative indicators, very few proper nouns or precise indicators.) Yesterday, as i settled her in watching the Agatha and the Truth of Murder, i lingered a little to make sure she was connecting. Indeed, Agatha dressed to visit Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on the golf course was a little hard for her to connect to Agatha dressed in her home to write. I lingered for the next scene, where Agatha visits Sir Golf Course Designer and gets dismissed -- no woman could design a golf course. Mom looks at me and asked, "What is this?" But then character Agatha gives the most delightful cutting reply and mom delighted in it.

"What is this?" apparently isn't a confused question, but the response of indignation at the sexist lecture. And Mom delighted in the witty response. It's a good reminder that while her universe is so limited, she's still sharp in there. I need to remember that and try to verbally bring more of a world in, as Dad's dystopian preoccupation with Trump and global warming is not a broad landscape of conversation.

I should probably intentionally work on noting conversation topics to help me stretch a bit: i am preoccupied myself, despite my wide reading and curiosity.