"How'd You Sleep?"

I see the light on underneath my dad's bathroom door. He's up. I hear the whirrrr of his electric shaver. He comes out of the bathroom to put his razor back into his travel bag. He has not taken his "essentials" out of his travel bag since he arrived here 19 months ago. I don't know if he thinks that one of these days he is going to need to make a quick exit or just because the bag is familiar. Probably the later. At any rate, these trips back and forth from the bathroom to his room go on for about an hour. Soon he emerges from his morning routine and I hear, "How'd you sleep?" I turn to him. He's all dressed; jeans, shirt and signature cardigan sweater and fully shaved (he wears the sweaters year round) Still in my jammies I greet him with "Fine, pop. How'd you sleep?"

At this stage in his condition his conversation is for the most part restricted to pat phrases. Because he doesn't remember that my husband and I were out last evening with friends he doesn't have much else to ask or say. As I still have on the tell tale clues of just getting out of bed, my night ware, this particular phrase for this time of day is safe and appropriate.

If I leave the room and come back I will get the same warm greeting as if he is just seeing me for the first time this morning. If I leave the room again and come back ... well, you get the idea. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

As I prepare to close this blog and leave the computer room to go have my breakfast, I know I will hear "How'd you sleep?" Guess I'd better get out of my jammies.