Where Are My Teeth ?!

Where Are My Teeth ?!

A Story by Easter3
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Some Treasure HUnts are never ending !

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Where Are My Teeth ?

“Cheyenne, Baby, come on inside for a cup of coffee.  I need your help with something.”

Cheyenne knew that her Mother was having more difficulty than usual with her Memory.  “Thank you, Mama.  How are you feeling this morning ?  Can I pour you a cup of coffee, too ?”

“I’ve already got a cup started somewhere around here.  Now, where did I put that cup of coffee ?”

“That’s alright, Mama, I’ll locate it for you.  I’ll bet it’s in the Living Room somewhere.”

“I remembered taking a sip of it early this morning, and realizing that I had not put any cream or sugar in it yet.  I must say, that when you’re not used to black coffee, it can surely be a rather rude and puckering awakening,”  Mama chuckled.

“Uncle E.L. calls black coffee Mississippi Mud, Mama.  Remember, when just before he’d take off for an early hunting trip he used fill up his old beat up and crooked cooking pot with water, plop it on the stove, dump a handful of coffee grounds into it, boil it, pour it into his coffee cup, and start drinking it ?  Ha, he used to say, ‘now that’ll put hair on your chest,’ and proceed to chug the whole scalding cup of coffee down his throat in two or three gulps, bang it down on the kitchen table, and smiling ear-to-ear he’d sigh long and hard as if it were the best cup of coffee he had ever tasted.”

“Yes, I remember that, Cheyenne.”  Mama laughed outright.  “You’re Uncle E.L. was quite a Jokester.”

Despite her Mama’s difficulty with her short-term Memory, Cheyenne’s Mother had excellent long-term Memory ReCall.  Especially if there was a strong Emotion attached to it.

“Speaking of puckering, Cheyenne, I just remembered what I needed your help with.  I have misplaced my Teeth.”

“Mama, are you still placing them every night in the Special Jar Liza and James got for you ?”

“Yes, yes.  I wash them thoroughly every evening and set them into the Special Jar with warm water and that Special Solution you all got for me to use.”

“Well, they’ve gotta’ be around here somewhere Mama.  You get started on this English Muffin I toasted for you, and I’ll look around for them.”  Cheyenne offered.

“Thank you, Baby, I know that I can always depend on you to help.”

“I try, Mama, I try.”  Cheyenne decided to take a quick sip of her coffee.  It was full of gritty, dark grounds.  “Mama, the coffee tastes a little stale.  Do you mind if I make a fresh pot before I begin looking for your Teeth ?”

“Oh no, I made that pot of coffee around 4:30 this morning.  A fresh pot would do the both of us a world of good.”

“Thanks, Mama.”  Cheyenne answered.  “Mama, before I get started on the coffee do you mind if I check on the back of the commode for your Teeth first.  Remember, we found them there wrapped in a hand towel a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did I really leave them on the back of the commode ?”  Mama asked disbelievingly.

“Yes Ma’am.  And last week, after searching your house for an hour or longer, we found them at the bottom of your Fish Bowl, when I had stopped the hunt very briefly to feed your little Gold Fish, Gertrude,”  Cheyenne recounted, trying not to laugh out loud, so as not to embarrass her Mother.

“Gertrude was so cute.  She was swimming all around, and all over your Teeth, as if she were trying to figure out just what they were, and what they were doing in her territory.”

“I can’t imagine my doing that, Cheyenne.  I must be losing my Mind.”

“No Ma’am.  Mama, you’re not losing your Mind.  I honestly think that it was late, you were tired, and you thought that Gertrude’s Fish Bowl was your Special Jar for your Teeth.”

“How could I have made such an obvious mistake ?”

“Mama, you’ve had a little trouble with your Memory, and some of your Perceptions ever since your mild stroke.  It’s just part of it.  That’s why the girls and I are always trying to get you to understand that you need to rely on our help with things more, and not feel so self conscious about it.  And why we’re always getting you to work on those Memory Games with us that you think are so silly.”

“Well, I do not mean to be rude or to sound UnGrateful, Cheyenne, but some of them are silly.”

“Yes Ma’am, but they are helping you to put your Thoughts and Perceptions back together more and more frequently,”  Cheyenne persisted.  “Mama, we Love you.  It is our great pleasure to be able to help you whenever, and however we can.”

“I know that, Cheyenne, and I am deeply appreciative.  It’s just so difficult to give up my Independence.  I do not want to be a burden on you girls or to my Family.”

“I know that Mama.  We all know that.  And you need to understand that we don’t feel that way at all.  We want you to ask for our help, and let us know about the things that you need help with.  Like your Teeth for instance,”  Cheyenne dodged in and out of the bathroom very quickly.  

“Well, they’re not on the back of the commode wrapped in a hand towel, Mama.  So, you can relax.  And I don’t see them in Gertrude’s Fish Bowl.  So, we’re clear there, too.  Let me whip up that fresh pot of coffee real quick, and then I’ll renew my search.”

“What a way for you to have to spend your morning, when you come out to visit your Mother.  I’m so sorry, Cheyenne.”

“Don’t apologize, Mama.  You know me.  I love Treasure Hunts, ha !”

Cheyenne unplugged the electric stainless steel coffee pot, took out the interior parts, and proceeded to pour the old coffee out of the pot and into the kitchen sink.

“Ha, ha !  Mama, the Treasure Hunt is over !  Behold !  Your Teeth !  They were at the bottom of the coffee pot.  You have percolated them clean !”

© 2014 Easter3


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104 Views
Added on May 31, 2014
Last Updated on May 31, 2014
Tags: mothers and daughters, memory loss, forms of dementia, aftermath of a mild stroke, false teeth

Author

Easter3
Easter3

Liberty Hill, TX



About
Leah Sellers is a native Texan who has enjoyed four varied careers in her lifetime as a: Secondary Education teacher in the fields of English, History, Journalism and Special Education, an Activity di.. more..

Writing