Years ago, when my Dad was in the throes of Alzheimer’s disease, I’d visit him in the nursing home. There was a courtyard in the middle, so we could walk around and around until he was tired. One day, he got tired, so we sat in the little living room type area and he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. There was an elderly black lady in a wheelchair about 15 or so feet away. She was all dressed up, complete with a hat with a big brim and flowers, white gloves, a shiny white patent leather pocketbook, and two red spots of rouge on her cheeks. She kept smiling and winking at me, and I smiled back.
Eventually, she began to call out, “Come ovah heeyah!” “Yes, come ovah heeya!”
I really didn’t want to disturb Dad, and I wasn’t sure she was talking to me since oftentimes Alzheimer’s patients are talking to a memory, so I ignored her for five or ten minutes.
Soon, she got annoyed that I was ignoring her, and commanded me, saying, “Get Yo Fat Seff Ovah Heeya!”
I thought that a little rude, and my fatness has always been a sore point for me, so I responded with a distinct lack of charity, “ExCUSE Me?”
She was stopped cold and looked at me with her mouth making a perfect O in surprise. Then she began cackling and laughing and slapping her hand on her knee. She wiped her eye with a gloved finger, and said the words that my daughter threatens to put on my tombstome:
“Ooooooh, and sassy, too!”
“FAT, FINE, and SASSY!”