Sunday painting

Received a note on the kitchen counter last night: "Martha, do you want to go to church tomorrow morning?" I wrote back, "Yes, I will take you to church. We can leave at 8:45 am," and stuck it under her door. Sure enough, this morning around 8:40 I spotted her hovering in the den area. Did she know I could see her? I don't think she realizes that you can see into the bedrooms from the den, so if it were anyone else, I might suspect that she was trying to see if I was awake or not.

On the way to church, there was not a word about the argument last night. I had asked my husband if he thought I should apologize. "Well, it depends," he said. "I wasn't there, so I couldn't say for sure, but if you feel terrible or if you were wrong, I suppose you could. Or if you think you were somewhat justified, you could say something like, 'I'm sorry for getting angry with you, but I am concerned about this.'" I pondered. "Well, I do feel justified; I feel like everything I said was logical, even if I was steamed." We decided that she'd probably forget it ever happened so I might as well ignore it and move on.

I am deciding to let go of the fact that after I let her out of the car after church, before going to park, that she locked the front door behind her, so that I had to unlock the door myself. Hello, right behind you??? Don't. Be. Annoyed. 

She headed over to the kitchen. She came back out holding a cup (a juice glass, oddly, instead of a coffee mug) full of coffee. "I have coffee, is that ok?" "Sure," I mumbled, not thinking about it. Then I saw my husband's face. "She just poured herself MY coffee!" he hissed. "Well, either we could say something, or next time we could just make additional coffee." "We don't know if she wants coffee every time I want it, and I don't want to waste coffee." "OK, well, let's tell her that she needs to let us know before she wants it, or before she takes it, to just 'put an order in' sort of, when she wants coffee, so that this doesn't happen again." So he knocked on her door: "Aunt May, that was my coffee." (oh no, I'm sorry, I heard faintly.) She agreed to give warning next time. We'll see if she remembers.

About 10 minutes after she left for her walk today (after she "lost" and then found her keys in her purse), we heard sirens. "Oh God, do you think those are for Aunt May?" "I'll let you go look." "If those sirens come up to this street, I'm going out to look for her." "All right, I'd go with you."