Hearing stories from other people whose elderly relatives developed dementia, I gather that weird or unusual obsessions are part of the disease.
I've mentioned "the pills" before. Well, this one is to do with the kitchen.
I've been living here with my grandmother about three and a half years. All serving items (plates, bowls, etc.) have, for the most part remained the same in that time, with the exception of a few new mugs and a few "OK to throw away" containers.
Last week or the week before....
My grandmother: What happened to all the silverware?
Me: What do you mean?
My grandmother: I had [insert number of] forks. Some aren't there.
Me: I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about.
This goes on for a little bit. The self-restraint is hanging by a thread, and I flippantly say, "I guess someone came in and stole them."
My grandmother: They must have because I had [however many] of each and now there are only [less number than however many].
This past weekend....
My grandmother: Are you taking glasses to work and not bringing them home?
[Okay, pause....I can't even begin to describe the absurdity of this statement.....resume]
Me: No. There are the same number of glasses in there as there always are.
My grandmother: No, some are missing. I had...just a minute. [She goes to check to tell me just exactly how many are missing, like she can remember the exact number of each type of glass she has, but gets sidetracked by something else and forgets about the whole thing.]
(I realize that last bit is a little callous, but please permit me a little blazing honesty for a moment. My self-restraint is temporarily broken.)
I checked a few minutes later, not mentioning the conversation, just looking. All the glasses are there.
I don't know if this one counts as obsessional technically, or paranoid. Either way....oy. And since I don't remember to ask in the moment, because I'm too busy being stunned by whatever absurd question has been thrown at me: "Jesus, please allow me your strength in these moments. Amen."