But Can You Dance?
We returned Tuesday from our trip to Chicago to visit Bill’s mother. Just prior to our arrival, she came down with a chest cold. Chest colds are no fun for anyone, but when you’re 98 years old, they can, of course, be particularly dangerous. Like Bill, Wilma is tough and a non-complainer, but the cold was really hard for her. Mostly she was mad that she couldn’t talk – almost no voice at all for several days. Sunday we turned on television to watch the church service that they hold in their community room, but which they televise for those who are unable to attend. She had watched the Catholic Mass at which Bill and I were in attendance, and was prepared to watch the protestant service after we got back to her apartment. She tried with all of her might to sing along with the hymns to no avail whatsoever. She was very frustrated. Finally, she turned to Bill and croaked, “Go down and tell the nurse that I can’t sing.” I shared her frustration, but I must admit that the statement seemed ripe for a punch line.

The Perfect Food
There were a few things she could get across however, and one of those things was that she was sick and tired of the food she was eating every night. “It’s crap!” she croaked one night. So despite her illness, and since the weather was somewhat mild, we took her out for pizza at her favorite place – Aurlelio’s Pizzaria. And Bill loves his mother so much that he was willing to go there instead of HIS favorite place – Fox’s Pizzaria. There is no greater love than that of a son for his mother! It was a fun night and we were glad that for one night at least she didn’t have to eat “crap.” The server was nice enough to take our picture….

We Say Christmas
Though there are probably a handful of Jewish residents at the senior facility where Wilma lives, the place is definitely decorated for Christmas, all political correctness aside. With the large Polish-, Irish-, and Italian-Catholic population of Chicago, those numbers are probably represented among Smith Crossing’s population. All I know is that when I would take my walks around the facility, nearly every unit was decorated for the Christmas holiday. Here was Wilma’s contribution….

Bag It
The day before we left for Chicago, I got motivated and began to go through the place in my closet where I keep all of my old purses. For reasons I myself can’t even understand, I have a difficult time throwing or giving away old purses. I always think I will use them again. Even when the lining is torn and the bag is dirty. I will fix the lining and clean the bag, I tell myself. The chances of that happening are about the same as the chance that I will ever ride the world’s scariest roller coaster. So I am determined to make a final perusal of the bags to make sure there isn’t a hidden $100 bill, and give them to Goodwill. If you think I’m kidding, take a look at this photo…..

Give Them 20 Years…..
Last night Bill and I attended the holiday performance of the Southmoor Elementary School Choir, of which Dagny is a proud member. Being a McLain and therefore one of the shortest in her class, she was in the front row where she was easy to watch. As far as I was concerned, there didn’t need to be anyone else singing because I never took my eyes off of her. In a mere 20 years I will be watching her on The Voice. As an added bonus, the Southmoor Band played a few short holiday numbers. Key to the trombone section was Alastair McLain, who appeared to play beautifully. Let’s face it….Glenn Miller had to start somewhere. Here is a picture of the stars of the show….

Ciao!