Something Red

After the stimulation of Maria's kids and Whitney, Leola was pretty wound up this afternoon. I did penance for my morning out by spending all afternoon and evening with her. She was on a manic roll of free association in her thinking and talking. In an attempt to get her focused on something other than talking to me, I asked her where the box of letters/writings she had been reading was. "Where's the red box?" Regrettably I realized I sounded like Whitney when she asks her dog, Dewey, "Where's your stick? Go find your stick!" I found the box on the floor in the coat closet. She had tidily put it away earlier, careful not to clutter anything. She disappeared downstairs for a while and changed into a red sweater. Upon her return she asked me,

"Is this what you meant?"

"Uh, what do you mean?" I asked.

"This is red. Didn't you say you wanted something red?" she asked, trying to please. Realizing she had focused on the "red" in red box, I explained about the red box, her writing and how much she had enjoyed reading it. I had found the red box and it was right outside on the table.
After some absurd discussion, she realized I had been talking about the red box full of letters, not a red sweater. She laughed at her foolishness. We went downstairs while she worked on an insane jigsaw puzzle, while I wrote on this blog. She mentioned going home about 20 times this evening... when I go home tomorrow; I will be gone when Jon gets home tomorrow; it will be fun when you come to stay at my house, etc.

I just smile and nod.