My mom's bestie of 65+ years passed away in November of 2013. My mom, already rattled with Alzheimer's, seemed to lose it after that and we moved her to Memory Care a few months later.
Her bestie, Mrs. B, was one of the most kind-hearted women I have ever met, a natural nurturer. She became involved with the local butterfly exhibit at the Krohn Conservatory when it first started and continued to be a vital part every year for the next 18 years. She fed the caterpillars daily and pinned pupae so that there was a constant and steady stream of butterflies to delight the crowds. All of her work was behind the scenes. All of it for the enjoyment of others. Mrs. B was just like that. I never went that I didn't feel her in every butterfly. She WAS the butterfly show to me.
Mom's new tribe of Memory Care took a field trip last week to the Krohn. When I asked about it mom waxed on and on about this butterfly that landed on her hand and stayed there for fifteen minutes. She was quite proud of herself since no one else had attracted one. I was stoked that she remembered since her memory is so bad.
I gently reminded her how Mrs. B helped with the butterflies every year. She looked at me in her childish way and said, "Do you think she sent the butterfly?" To which I replied, "I think she WAS the butterfly." She was satisfied. So was I. It was like Mrs. B. had stopped in to check on her. Mrs. B is just like that.
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