Saturday, March 9, 2013

ROBERT WHO? ~~~~~~~~~~ Dementia in one act


(Throughout this piece Mom is moving through the kitchen “tidying up”.  She takes a jar of peanut butter and stuffs it in the drawer housing the pens.  Two plates lying on the counter are placed with the linens.  A jar of pencils is switched to the shelf with the wine glasses.  Each cupboard is filled with dissimilar items.  The aimless moving of items continues.)

Barbara:      “Diane’s coming for a visit next week.”

Mom:           “Who’s Diane?”

Barbara:    “She’s Billy’s wife.”

Mom:        “Who’s Billy?”

Barbara:    “Billy’s your nephew, your brother’s son.”

Mom:        “I don’t have a brother.”

Barbara:    “Yes, you do … his name was Bill.”

Mom:        “Is he in the hospital?”

Barbara:    “No, Bob’s in the hospital.  Bill is dead.”

Mom:        “Who’s Bob?”

Barbara:    “He’s your husband … Robert.”

Mom:        “How do you know him?”

Barbara:    “I’m his daughter.”

Mom:        “Oh.” (thoughtful pause)

Barbara:    “Anyway, Diane and Bill are coming for a visit next week.”

Mom:        “I don’t know them.”

Barbara:    “Yes, you do, they are family.  They come out here every year.”

Mom:        (angrily) “I don’t want anyone here.”

Barbara:    “Well, they’re coming anyway.  We need some help.”

Mom:        “Why do we need help?”

Barbara:    “Because Dad’s in the hospital and she’s an RN.  She helps to make decisions.”

Mom:        (anxious and surprised) “My father is in the hospital?”

Barbara:    “No, your husband is in the hospital.”

Mom:        “My husband!  He was supposed to come home for lunch.  Where is he?”

Barbara:    “He’s in the hospital.”

Mom:        “Well, I waited for him to come home to lunch and he never showed up. I just had to go ahead and eat without him.”

Barbara:    “Well, he’s not coming home because he’s in the hospital.”

Mom:        “Who’s in the hospital?”

Barbara:    “Robert, your husband.”

Mom:        “Then what are you doing here?”

Barbara:    “I’m going to drive you to the hospital to visit your husband, Robert.”

Mom:        “I can drive myself but that car’s too big.  I need someone to teach me how to drive that car.”

Barbara:    “Anyway, Diane is coming out to visit next week.”

Mom:        “Diane who?”

Barbara:    “Diane, your nephew’s wife.”

Mom:        “Do I know them?”

Barbara:    “Yes, they are part of the family.”

Mom:        “I’ve never met her.”

Barbara:    “She was here last year with two dogs.”

Mom:        (pause) “Why is my brother in the hospital?”

Barbara:    “It’s not your brother who’s sick, it’s your husband.”

Mom:        “Did you tell my mother?”

Barbara:    “Your mother’s been dead since 1967.”

Mom:        “Well, she was just here.”

Barbara:    “When Diane comes out she’ll help us sort things out.”

Mom:        “Diane who?”

Barbara:    (sounding impatient)  “Your nephew Bill’s wife is Diane.”

Mom:        “Terry is Bill’s wife.”

Barbara:    “Terry was Billy’s mother.  Your brother Bill was his father.”

Mom:        “Who’s Bill?”

Barbara:    “Bill was your brother.”

Mom:        “Is he here?”

Barbara:    “No, Bill is dead.  His son is coming to visit.”

Mom:        “Then who is that lady you were taking about?”

Barbara:    “That’s Diane, Billy’s wife.”

Mom:        “Don’t know her.”

Barbara:    “So, let’s go see Robert.  Why don’t you get your purse?”

Mom:        “Where did I put it?”

Barbara:    “I don’t know, why don’t you try the usual places?”

(Mom begins looking into kitchen cupboards amongst the glassware, pots and pans.)

Mom:        “I think it may be in one of these cupboards here.” 

(She keeps opening more doors.  As she looks through the linens, mail and newspapers spill out.  There are pieces silverware and pencils amongst the wine glasses.  A bra falls out of the same cupboard.)

Mom:        “Here it is.  Let me look for my keys.”

(She begins to unzip various compartments in the purse.  She pulls out a single fork, one sock, and a packet of unopened mail.  After a few minutes she finds the keys.)

Mom:          “I wonder which one it is?”

(She walks to the front door, opens it, and sticks a key in the lock.  She wiggles it vigorously while holding the knob tightly in her other hand.)

Mom:    “It doesn’t work.”

Barbara: “You need to let go of the door knob.”

Mom:    (She moves the key even more vigorously while keeping a death grip on the handle.)  “It doesn’t work.”

(Barbara seizes the key and handle, locks the door and motions her mother to the
sidewalk.)

Mom:      “I need to tell Robert where we’re going.”

Barbara:  “We’re going to see Robert right now.”

Mom:      “Robert who?”
                   
© Picottee Asheden

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