The Men in Red

I mentioned earlier that Lucy#1 has some worrying signs of dementia. The most noticeable is her inability to remember words or know what things are called. She recognizes the item. She knows what it is, what it is for, and how to use it. She just doesn’t know what to call it.

The first time I thought “uh-oh” was when she forgot “calendar.” She tried a couple other words, knew they were not right, and finally described it as “the thing I write birthdays on.”  

My favorite description of a forgotten word is “Men in Red.” One of the boxes she packed in preparation for moving up here was labeled as containing these three items: 

Blue Vase

Men in Red
Bed Eleph[a]nts

 

Blue Vase, check.

 

Bed Elephants, check (small stuffed toy elephants we’ve given her that she keeps on her bed).

 

Men in Red? Beats me.

So I asked her, “Hey, what are the Men in Red?”

Reply: “Those little men with red clothes. One of them has a wheelbarrow.”

Aahhhhh, gotcha! The Men in Red are garden gnomes.

My parents bought the gnomes when we lived in Germany (yep, I’m a military brat). How they’ve remained intact all these years (my dad retired from the Air Force in 1969) is a mystery, but survive they have done, and they are cute. (I am pretty sure they used to have a couple friends, but I guess those guys didn’t make it.) One gnome has a wheelbarrow and the other is reading a book. They were adorable on Lucy#1’s hearth. They are now adorable by our front patio.

I am frightened by the loss of “garden gnome,” but I just love the new descriptive name. Men in Red. Yup, I really, really like that.

I’ll probably never say “garden gnome” again.