My step sister and I took my Mom to New York over the weekend.
She lost something everywhere we went: earrings, glasses case, gloves...

We lost her every place we went: Neue Gallery, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Metropolitan Opera House, MOMA.

We almost lost our sense of humor, but continued to find it again and again at the bottom of a wine glass.

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Mom has macular degeneration (or "the macular", as she puts it). And when you have the macular, reading the small print on the placards next to paintings can slow you down.
Missy (my step-sister) and I didnt want to rush her so we all agreed to go at our own pace. Miss and I would zip through the galleries and double back every so often to check on Mom, that was the plan.... First we lost her at the Neue.

Me: Have you seen Mom?
Missy: Well, she was right behind me and I went into the next room. When I went back 3 minutes later she was gone. There are only 2 rooms on that floor. Maybe she went up to the 3rd floor?
Me: Well, that's where I was. There are only 3 rooms on that floor and she's definately not in any of those.
Missy: I bet she's in the gift shop.

We go to the gift shop...she's not there.

Me: Ok, You take one floor I'll take the other, whoever finds her first--texts the other.
Missy: Ok.

15 minutes later Missy and I meet on the stairs. Mom has been missing for almost 40 minutes.

Me: I think we just stay put, hang around the entrance. I cant imagine where she's gone?

5 minutes later...

Mom: Hi girls!
Me: Where have you been? We were looking for you for almost an hour?
Mom: Well, I had to go to the bathroom.
Me: Well, you have to tell one of us if you do that again, ok?

Next stop the Metropolitan. We made it through ancient civilizations without a hitch.

The instructions were.."Mom, I wanna take a picture...you and Missy get in line with the statues."

Adjustment after re-emphasizing word "in line"


We lost her somewhere between John Singer Sargent and Matisse.


Miss and I log another hour+ frantically searching. We finally head towards the security desk, thinking we need to put out an APB. And, there she is, standing erect like a child who knows she's in trouble and trying to look "not in trouble."

Later that evening...**************************************

We go to the Metropolitan Opera to see Carmen. Missy and I sit down in our seats.

Me: Wait, where's Mom?
Missy: She went to the restroom.
Me: Oh shit, do you think we should have waited for her.
Missy: She'll be ok, she knows where we're sitting.

The lights go down.
Mom's seat is empty.
She misses the entire first act, or so I think. I find her at intermission.

Mom: "Well Honey, what did you think?"
Me: "Oh Mom, you missed the whole first act! We're you ok, what did you do?
Mom: Oh well they wouldnt let me in and Damn IT! that really made me mad so I found someone who worked there and told that I came all the way from Indianapolis to see an Opera at the Metropolitan Opera House and that my Great Aunt was the first American to make her Debut here and I wasn't about to miss any of it!"

It's true, my great great aunt, Margaret Reid, was the first American to make her debut at the Met. Later she turned down a private audience with Queen Victoria because she had a prior engagement (turning down the Queen's request was unheard of). However, Victoria was so impressed by Margaret's loyalty to her "public" that she gave her one of her favorite necklaces, a jeweled cross. Now it rests in a lock box at a bank in Indianapolis.


Mom: "They went on a computer and looked it up and then let me in upstairs at one of the balconies. So I didn't miss a thing!"

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The following day we went to MOMA, but this time we set down EXPLICIT procedures. If Mom hadnt seen either one of us in over a half hour she was to head back to a designated area and wait for one of us to get her. Well, it worked for the first 2 floors...Over an hour (again) had gone by, she is NO WHERE. Eventually I see her hurrying to get to the "designated area" where she stands nervously.

Me: "MOM! You are in Trouble! Miss and I have been taking turns looking for you and standing in this spot for over an hour. You didn't obey the rules! Where were you!"
Mom: "Well, I know, I know I didnt do as I was told. I dont know what happened. I took an elevator and got sort of lost and then I found the gift shop and they had such wonderful books and I got completely lost in a Bob Dylan book, did you know he was a painter? I didnt, I'm having them ship the book to me. And I had to get a book about Lucien Freud, he sure does have a lot of books. It probably took me 20 minutes to decide which one to get. Anyway, I just forgot and I rushed over here as quickly as I could. I'm sure you girls must want my hide."




My mom, Lolly, (that's her real, impossibly perfect name) has always been this way. Age has only intensified it. My mom reports that when I was 3 or 4 I marched up to her after being scolded and said with my hands on my hips "Don't talk to me back to myself! Dont you know, I'm really the mother!"