I'm Worried About Mom

 It started a little over a year ago.  My Mom started getting forgetful.  At 87, being a little forgetful is not something to be overly concerned about, so we didn't really worry about it.

Then came Thanksgiving.  My Mom was supposed to make her delicious cornbread dressing as she has ever since I can remember.  Cornbread, onions, celery, chicken broth all mixed in together and baked transforming it into something so yummy.  Turkey and dressing with some cranberry sauce on it was something we had enjoyed every year.

I picked up Mom to go to my brother, Gary's, house.  She had a baking dish covered in foil that was the dressing. When we got to his home, I carried the dish into the kitchen.  Mom followed.  I was greeting everyone while Mom put the dressing in the oven, like she always does.  My sister-in-law, LiAnne, was getting the other dishes ready, Gary was cooking the turkey in the rotisserie.  I had made my "famous" deviled eggs.  Other family members arrived and we were having a great time gathered in the kitchen - laughing, talking, enjoying being together in fellowship.

After a while, Mom went to check on her dressing.  She asked LiAnne to come look because she didn't think it was cooking properly.  She was right - it wasn't.  When Li pulled the dish out of the oven, it was filled with onions and celery with cornmeal just sprinkled on top.  When she pointed this out to Mom, Mom said that is how she always made it.  Li said to Mom that she remembered making it with her in the past and that they always made the cornbread ahead of time and then crumbled it and mixed it with the other ingredients.  Mom became upset and said she had never made it like that.  Li and I exchanged looks because we knew that was not right.  She smoothed things over with Mom but ended up discarding the dish.  

That was our first indication that something was wrong.  I told Gary that I was worried about this but although concerned, he felt it wasn't that serious, just her being forgetful.  So we let it go.  But things were going to get worse.

Momma and me making dressing. 

Thanksgiving 2003