For a while now Nat has been attending adult day care three days a week, and it allows me to get a lot of the domestic stuff done without interruption. I picked her up at 4:00 pm and she was smiling and happy.

"Did you have a good time today?"

"Oh, yes, it was great, it really was."

"Terrific. That's good to hear." I got her into the car and buckled her in then as we drove out of the grounds I mentioned it again.

"So, you had fun then."

"I really did. It was great."

"What did you do?"

"I don't know."

................................................................................................

Driving home.

"See, that's what drives me crazy."

"What's that?" I asked.

"All that." She wiggled the fingers of both hands toward the opposite side of the street.

I looked over and it was all school kids going home."You mean the kids?"

"Yes."

"Why would those kids drive you crazy?"

"Oh yes, I love the kids."

"You just said they drove you crazy."

"Well that was when they were heavy."

Now I'm not a psychiatrist/psychologist or whatever but if pressed to the wall, I would interpret that as a flashback to when she was pregnant with our own kids. I have spoken to the psychiatrist I take her to and he has confirmed, for me at least, that Alzheimer sufferers do react to triggers in their own cryptic way. They just can't articulate the situation in the words or phrases we might expect.

Sometimes I think I'm working at Bletchley Park.