1. Sometimes it does seem that a balancing principle is at work in reality itself. I wonder if Mom's agitation on Wednesday gave rise to her day of sleep on Thursday. Christy was with Mom in the morning when she was awake and I was happy when Christy texted me at one point that Mom had been taken away for a shower. I arrived to see Mom shortly after noon. Christy had already told me Mom was asleep and so I checked in, saw Mom was asleep, and returned to Mom's house. I did this every 45-60 minutes through the afternoon. Each time I checked in, Mom was asleep.
At dinner time, a little past 5:30, one of the aids woke her up, sat her up in her bed, and Mom wasn't interested in eating. I left for dinner at Christy and Everett's and returned around 7:00 and Mom was back asleep. I didn't try to wake her, but waited for Christy to arrive. Christy woke her up. She had brought Mom soft ice cream from McDonald's. Mom ate about three quarters of the cup. Christy had bought Mom new pajamas and some new shirts and pants and showed them to Mom who approved. Christy and Mom continued to visit and I left and Christy stayed with Mom until after 9:00 and helped her get into her pajamas and, with an aid, helped Mom get into bed for the night.
2. Over the years, Mom accumulated a fairly hefty supply of partially filled cans of paint and cans and bottles of other products like floor wax, linseed oil, paint remover, varnish, and other things. She never wanted to let these products go and they have always concerned me as a fire hazard in her basement. Over the last ten days I had bagged and boxed up this stuff and this morning I took it to the dump, a great relief to me.
3. I went to Best Shots after my run to the dump and enjoyed a plate of sausage, eggs, hash browns, and toast with a cup of coffee. It was the first of several ways I relaxed today, helped along by Mom sleeping so much. I rested a lot at Mom's house. Well, I loafed. Christy fixed bratwurst with pasta salad for dinner. Late in the evening, after Mom had gone to bed, Christy, Everett, and I sat on their back deck, relaxed, debriefed a bit, and I slowly sipped a couple or three slugs of Pendleton 1910, a Canadian Rye Whisky, out of my favorite glass: a half-filled 5 oz. jar that once held Kraft cheese spread. I popped a single cube of ice into each slug.