Having lived with my Grandmother for those years . . . every so often a Reichen trait would shine through the Alzheimer's fog. Mostly it was how she explained things happening in her world. "That girl that lives with me (which was me by the way), she comes in at night and STEALS my clothes . . . because she doesn't have anything nice to wear, you know. Her clothes are awful."
I did steal her clothes . . . to put them directly in the washer. We would laugh and laugh at the thought of me stealing my 89-pound grandmother's sweatsuits to wear out on the town.
But in the shower this morning, I had a very "Reichen girl" thought. In thinking about what to wear to surgery . . . since I have had all these phone calls and problems . . . I came to what shoes to wear. "Better not bring the ones with the orthodics. Someone could steal my shoes." slipped into my head out of nowhere. Then "I'd be out 400 dollars then" scooted by. The paranoid Reichen part of my brain was taking over.
The slightly more rational part of my brain knows that no one is interested in my shoes, let alone the inserts in my shoes (lovingly made by feet-loving gnomes in Ohio). But the rational part of my brain is weakened by a migrane (which I cannot take drugs for) and for want of a soy latte (that would help with the migrane for sure).
So you do live on through your offspring. I'm not sure that paranoia would be what my grandmother would pick to pass on(though I do have her creativity and strive toward her sense of fun). Scary that I might soon desire to make creative deserts such as chocolate jello . . . but that is for another entry.
No, I haven't had nose surgery yet . . . four more hours.
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