Happy Hour

it is 7:00 p.m. in the holy city of zefat.  I just got back from my friends in the neighborhood.  we decided to have a happy hour today.  my friend's husband ran down to the supermarket in his motor cart to buy a bottle of vodka.  my friend was in the mood for screwdrivers.  her husband bought some Smirnoff and we immediately felt happy.  it was the first time all week that I felt good and relaxed.

I went off to the old age home this morning.  it was my turn to help feed our elderly friend at lunch time.  she only ate her jello and I couldn't coax her into eating anything else.  what's the point anyway, right?  after she was put back to bed I went downstairs to visit another friend who has Alzheimer's.  last week she was hostile and totally inside her own head.  she didn't want to engage me and sat there babbling.

today she was visibly happy and excited.  she had gotten a haircut and was feeling marvelous.  I complemented her on her new do and she was so proud and cheerful.  I didn't stay long because I went to visit a new acquaintance there who went totally blind in only two days.  I brought her some plums from the top floor dining room.  she had been taken upstairs to visit our elderly friend.  she and my other friend with the dementia are the only English speakers on that floor.

I went back upstairs to say goodbye to my elderly friend.  everyone was resting now.  no one left to visit until 4:00 p.m.  I walked over to visit my good gal pal and she made me some lunch.  I'm helping her make a small costume for her 3 dogs for a music video that she will be filming soon.  I didn't stay long.  I felt dizzy and she was tired and needed to rest before her evening rehearsal for a dramatic performance next month.  yes, she is in a play and I'm not.  I no longer have the patience to act or to do costumes.  the costume for the dogs is basically adding some very shiny material on to a bib.  no big deal.  I'm glad to be able to help out.

the kids are still not speaking to me.  on my way to the bus stop I heard childrens' voices so I walked over to the gan.  I waved to my granddaughter and she waved back after a moment of staring at me again.  I told her that I loved her but she didn't tell me that she loved me too.  this is a daily routine of mine and the grandkids.  I am really mad at her parents for alienating her against me.

last year I didn't babysit for them because I was working in the kitchen at the yeshiva.  there was none of this trauma/drama and they were even younger.  I keep thinking of an email to send them but my friend told me to take it easy right now.  I am trying my best to ignore the situation and to stay out of the house as much as I can.  I'm thinking about going back to the seniors' center to volunteer.  we'll see.