by Deborah G. Kalan
My mom related a story last night as I spoke to her on the phone after her day out with my older brother.
She had been to the manicurist for a mani and a pedi, met her third great grandchild for the first time, and eaten dinner at “In ‘n Out Burger” (her choice) while comfortably seated in the car. By the time she got back to her room at The Jewish Home, she was content and pooped.
Her nurse of the evening, a male who was not her regular one, asked what she wanted to do now that she was back. She told him she was tired and wanted to get ready for bed.
He helped her remove her foot brace and shoes as well as the rest of her clothes and was about to help her into bed when she stopped him and said that she hadn’t washed her face or teeth yet.
No problem, he said. Give me your teeth and I’ll wash them for you. My mom said she started to laugh and told him that while she might be 93 years old, she still had all of her own teeth and proceeded to click, click, click, them together.
I laughed out loud along with her as she joyfully described her moment.