After greeting the post mistress yesterday afternoon at the neighborhood location, Jan commented that John was at the door at eight in the morning.
"Oh, he must have been confused. He takes this road to the Y for his class. You know, Jan, John is having memory problems."
"He knows we open at nine. He had a strange bag with him. Is he in the first stages of Alzheimer? Has he see a Dr.? "
"Well, I don't know what is the first stage or how many stages there are. Oh, I have talk to Doctors about it but, really, this is one disease that doesn't need a Dr. to tell me that he is forgetting things?
"He must of had his swimming bag with him. Canvas? "
"Yes. Well, if I see anything I will call you, Loretta."
The sad, strange thing about being forgetful is that you can't remember to say that you got lost or confused.
This angel doesn't have wings but she was talking to me.
I decided that before I get a call from the police about an accident or a call from a stranger telling about a lost 77 year old, John, had to stop driving.
About an hour later, Ken's second car was ruled unfixable. I immediately offered him the John's truck as a loaner.
Yesterday two angels were working for me. It is easy to make decisions when opportunity and facts are introduced. I will be driving him to the Y each morning for his exercise and social outing. John will continue to have a licenses, a set of keys and a truck, he simply will not be driving anymore.
I will lean how to spend this period of time in a new manner. I will miss my leisure cup of coffee, my computer time or long breakfast with the paper.
John and I are about to learn a new dance step.
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