Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The holiday called August

This has been the busiest August in memory.  It's like the month of December.  Not only have we had all the family in town but friends are entertaining like mad before the summer ends.  Dinners galore,  open houses, opera, lunches, and three birthdays in our immediate family have kept us moving.  At the end of the day we fall into bed with a couple of Tylenol down our gullets.

Last night, I forgot to pick up Rian from work.  It wasn't until I was pleasantly seated at Janie's little soiree that I realized I had forgotten her.  I rushed out to find her, but she had made her way to the Frontrunner on her own and arrived safely in Provo.

Rian works at an Emeritus Assisted Living Center in town, which is where my parents stayed before they died, only then it was Brighton Gardens run by the Marriots.  Emeritus has changed out all the furniture to dark, heavy looking stuff, with suffocating Edwardian draperies.  Gag me.  Public television had a documentary last week on Assisted Living and Death, which focused mainly on mistakes Emeritus makes with its hundreds of centers throughout the country.

They are understaffed and I imagine pay minimum wage.  Mistakes are bound to happen.  Even my mother got out one night and walked downtown in her nightgown and fell on her face.  Sickening.  I have to admit that most family members aren't ready for that one time when the demented one decides to travel on foot in the middle of the night.

Earlier than that, my mother would go shopping at Smith's and hand over her wallet to the cashier so that he/she could take the money she owed.  Then she'd bring the groceries home in the cart and leave the empty cart out on the front lawn.

It's strange to have Rian working where my father and mother both died.  Monday night was the first time I had walked into that place since July, 2004.

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