Thanks for the Memories

I am continually amazed by Bernice. She's the woman at the care center who bears more than just a passing resemblance to the muppet named Beaker. Bernice is super thin, all of her plaid shirts and long skirts swimming on her narrow frame, with a shock of curly gray hair and a weak chin. Bernice and most of her teeth parted ways some time ago but, oddly, it's not really that noticeable. I don't get to talk to her much anymore because she sits in her wheelchair at the far table from mine and she usually wheels out of there long before I'm finished trying to convince Angie and Mary that eating dinner is in their best interest. But every opportunity I can get to have a chat with Bernice I swear she remembers me, though it would seem unlikely.

Tonight Bernice was rolling out of the sunroom as usual and since Angie was having a nonsensical chat with her little old man boyfriend from across the room and therefore wasn't eating, I decided to call out to her. "Hey, Bernice, I like your autumn sweater!" I said loudly. Bernice was wearing a pretty, green wool cardigan with appliqued leaves on it that I hadn't seen before. She wheeled over and thanked me kindly. I thought that would be about it for conversation, as conversations are usually pretty short on the second floor, but Bernice continued. "I wish I could find that other sweater, you know the one." I was shocked, I knew she was talking about the plum-colored sweater she received from Santa Joel at the care center Christmas party. I had opened the box with her and helped her label it as hers and she has mentioned that sweater to me several times since then, without prompting. I asked her, "Do you mean the plum-colored sweater from Christmas?" She nodded. "Where did it go?" She told me it went to the laundry one day and never came back. She said it with a tone of resignation, like it wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last for wayward clothing last seen off to the laundry. "Well, I hope you're able to hold onto this pretty green autumn sweater for a long time!" I told her. She hunched down and said with a laugh, "I'm guarding it with my life." And then she was gone, back to her room.

Meanwhile, Rosalie seemed overly happy to see me (she greeted me with a kiss!) and noticed that I had been gone for awhile. It's true, I didn't go to the care center last Wednesday because of the tornado damage nearby. I couldn't believe Rosalie had really noticed. She was all excited and giggly tonight, not confused like usual. While she happily ate her ham and macaroni salad, she kept marveling at how long it had been since she'd seen me, and I was just thrilled that she remembered. Then, after she finished the last bite of her gummy-looking breadstick, she stood up to leave. I was still glowing from all the memories that were swirling around the place and reached out to Rosalie to pat her on the arm as she brushed past me to get to her room. She looked at me, smiling, and told me again how nice it was to see me after so long, then asked me sweetly how my baby was doing. Oh, well, so much for the memories.