Mom was up and down all day, and confabulating, and the subjects were usually 'Butte and Anaconda', '65 dogs and cats', 'going to church', and the 'cutting up of the dogs and cats' and then 'burning down the church and the house', and this went on for about seven hours on and off.
Where does this come from, the recesses of the mind, the few connections that are still left, ancient childhood things that were drilled into Mom, old fears, old stories?
I took Mom to the airport today, many nice jets in for the AT+T golf, and she said, 'I'll buy you all the planes here so we can go to Montana for breakfast in the morning and then come back here to to New York since you can fly the plane'. Well, my father was a pilot, so I think she's just so confused, grasping at facts from the past and trying to make sense of the present.
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