My thirteen year old granddaughter delights in hearing stories about her mother’s teenage years. Her mother doesn’t.
As the family was gathered for dinner Sunday night a few stories were told about noisy neighbours and all night partying. My brother, who is a big guy and can look intimidating, used his physical presence to get the point across to the party-goers he was telling us about.
I laughed and said he could have called the police as my neighbours had done when my then teenage daughter had a party one night I was away. I did cover my granddaughter’s ears so I didn’t let out any family secrets.
As I related the story my daughter was adamant in her denial that it ever happened. After all, she said, “You’re cognitively impaired.”
I looked at her with surprise. She was right in what she’d said, and I had to laugh. I do have memory issues related to my MS, but sorry kiddo, it pertains to working, or short term memory, not long time, old memories.
We’ve all had to adapt our way of communicating, and my children have been very supportive with my memory issues. Supportive and comfortable enough to joke about it.
As my daughter said, laughing, she wasn’t admitting to anything and was using whatever was convenient to support her position of denial. It was a fun moment, a feel good moment that let me feel part of the group when I can so often feel separate.