What's it like for her?

My friend Kathy spends a lot of time on Facebook. She's posted 9 times today, and today's not over yet. Most of it is reposts of Snoopy cartoons and clips from America's Got Talent. She "likes" everything our friend John or I post, and when she comments she uses "quotes" and cAPs randomly. Clearly it makes her feel connected and I shouldn't be so judgey. 

But here's the thing: she's online constantly. I know from USPS tracking that her gift was delivered last Saturday, well in advance of her 75th birthday on Wednesday. But she didn't mention it -- not in any of her countless Facebook posts, not via email. I thought maybe she was saving it for her actual birthday.

When her birthday rolled around Wednesday, I posted a Facebook "happy birthday" asked her if she received my gift. I heard nothing until Thursday, when she responded cryptically: "Someone did say YES. Thank you from my heart." What does that mean? She lives in the upstairs apartment of a house. Did her neighbor sign for the package but hadn't yet given it to her? Then Friday she emailed me -- three times, identical emails -- photos of my unwrapped gift and card. I answered the first two but not the third. I didn't want to embarrass her, in case she didn't realize she sent it three times. 

Then there was the Facebook exchange about the Egyptian Theater in Dekalb, where Kathy lives. It's a very distinctive art deco building on the U.S. National Register of Historic Places. A woman I met at the TCM Film Festival and I were sharing how gorgeous this old movie palace is and how much it resembles the one with the same name and same architect on Hollywood Blvd. in Los Angeles. 

Kathy commented -- as she always does -- that I "know how to have FuN." I responded, truthfully, that I'd never have been inside the Egyptian in Dekalb if it wasn't for her. She said, "Hmm?" She truly didn't:

• Recognize it as a building in her town that she must pass regularly. Trust me, Dekalb, IL, is not a bastion of Egyptian art. This theater stands out.

• Remember that we'd been there together three years ago.

Kathy lives within walking distance & doesn't remember this

 

I don't know what's wrong with her because she won't see a doctor. She is surrounded by family in Dekalb -- her adult grandchildren are right there and have keys to her apartment, so at least I don't have to worry about her getting lost or lying prone on the floor for days ("I've fallen and I can't get up"). 

I am pretty sure I'll never see her again. The nearest train station is 20 minutes away from her home. I can't, in good conscience, encourage her to visit me here because she'd have to drive the 15 miles to the station. I know she still drives, but she shouldn't. Similarly, I'm not taking the train to visit her because she'd insist on picking me up at the station -- after all, she maintains there's nothing wrong with her and she gets very upset if you suggest there is -- and there's no way I'm getting in a car with her behind the wheel. 

This is why John seldom if ever interacts with her. He says he doubts she really notices who is there for her anymore and who isn't, and it causes us more upset than it brings her joy.

Photo by Joshua Hoehne on Unsplash

But is that true? What's it like inside that head? How does her life feel for her? She's posted two more times on Facebook while I've been composing this blog post. Is she glued to her phone, trying to connect to the people she's known over the years? Or is she completely in the moment, not realizing that she's been posting all day? 

I think this post is just my way of working through this, or coming to terms with the fact that John may be right. I've been upset about Kathy's birthday for almost a week now. Her cognitive issues are going to get worse, not better. I have to learn to separate, even though that's really not my instinct in matters of friendship.