Mom and I had our "Thanksgiving Meal" together at 5:30. Don't know why it was scheduled for the 19th, but for most Courtyard residents there were two seatings in the dining room, one at 5:00 and the second at 6:00. Neither time would work for me, so I asked if I could have my dinner delivered with Mom's. That worked OK, but several times she looked over at my food - I guess because it looked a lot different from her pureed helpings. I scraped the filling from my pumpkin pie crust and gave it to her.
I wrote last time about a new resident in the 600 corridor and how the first couple days were difficult for her and the staff, but she had calmed down considerably - under the influence, I assume, of some medication. Also that her situation is similar to Mom's in that she had been sharing an apartment with her husband, and he now lives in the Courtyards. If he has visited her, it's not been anytime I've been around. Based on some things I've heard her say about wanting to go home etc. I would guess that visits from him or one or more of her daughters could be upsetting for her as well as for her visitors. I'm thankful that we never had to deal with that. Actually, I hum and sing parts of "September Song" to myself as I enter and leave Mom's room. Don't know how familiar you are with the song, but you can search the title and go to a video of Jimmy Durante singing it. You can also hear Frank Sinatra and Ezio Pinza - even for comic relief, Jack Benny playing it on Liberace's show. But Jimmy's version is the one I like - he puts a lot more meaning into the ending words, ". . . these few precious days I'll spend with you. These precious days I'll spend with you."