In the last year of my mother’s life she developed intermittent dementia. Kind of like a nosy neighbor who just shows up when you least expect them, or want them. She often told me about “The other Breeda.” I then would ask her for the inside scoop on what this awful woman was doing. Mom would tell me that Breeda #2 would make her take this terrible medicine and that she wouldn’t let her have a cup of tea or coffee in the middle of the night. I would sympathize and comfort her and tell her not to worry, I would take care of that Breeda for her.
I had an office in my home and worked on my computer and phone throughout the day. Mom’s room was very near and she would call me if she needed the TV turned off or a fresh cup of tea or whatever. One day she called out to me, I popped my head in the doorway. She looked up from her wing-back chair, pointed her finger and commanded, “I need to talk to both Breeda’s and I want you both in here right now so I don’t have to repeat myself.” She was very serious. So, I entered her room and tried to explain that I was here and that she knew there was only one Breeda, right? She looked at me like I was trying to pull a fast one on her and shook her head. So I played along and left the room, grabbed a scarf and a sweater in an attempt to change my appearance a bit, and rejoined her. She looked at me, wrinkled her nose, and repeated her request for the two of us to be present. Then she stated, “Oh is she too busy on her computer to come in and talk to me?” I smiled, gave her a hug, and sat down on the bed and just asked what was on her mind. Gotta love a feisty old lady!