Room #12

Sometimes dad forgets that this is my house and thinks we are in a hotel. Usually the clue that that's what he's thinking is the fact that he will ask, "What's our status?" It used to be when I would ask what he meant by status, he would ask how long we were going to be staying here and when would we be going home.

Tonight when he asked me what our status was, I replied, "This is my house and we are in Utah, this is where we live." At first he was satisfied with that response, then he came back and asked, "Does we include me?" To which I explained, "Yes, you live with me and my family. All you stuff is here in your bedroom." Adding the last sentence because the usual next question is whether he has all his clothes here, but tonight he surprised me. His follow up question was, "Does it have my name on it? Is it number 12?"

After moving in with us, dad's memory of living at Jamestown for a year quickly disappeared. I always feel bad when we run into some of the staff from there, because they all loved dad so much and seem hurt at how quickly he forgot them. Tonight he surprised me because his room at Jamestown was #12 and his name was on the wall beside the door.