TBT: Be still my cheatin' heart

Some days I just want to throw my iPhone off the nearest mountain. And then there are those days when all—OK, just about all—is forgiven.

My iPhone has been a Godsend for Martin. Just because he’s confined to a nursing home doesn’t mean I can’t bring the outside world to him.

I can make videos of our dog running through the snow or tearing up his latest toy until he reaches the prized squeaker. I can show him hysterical You Tube videos.

I can record voices of loved ones wishing Martin well. I can receive calls from my sister wishing him a long distance happy birthday or Happy Thanksgiving.

I can tap on the music app and he can hear Elvis and Earth Wind & Fire. And when he asks if I have anything by Dougie MacLean, his favorite Scottish performer, thanks to the nursing home’s Wifi, I can download Dougie on the spot. Even though the words escape him, he can still hum along.

Somewhat.

I can take photos of family, friends or the beauty of New Hampshire’s autumn and he can see it. Yesterday I put together our Nativity scene and displayed it at its usual spot on our kitchen counter. I took a photo to show to him. Shortly after we began dating, we bought a basic Nativity scene from a museum store in East Los Angeles. Over the years we have added various characters to the scene, including Mr. T, two of my Mother’s ornaments and a planeload of American Airlines passengers.

Yesterday I came prepared to show him a photo this year’s version but first, he said, we had to have a talk. He was in solid sulk.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. He pursed his lips even more. So I sat and waited it out. I’ve been down this road before.

Finally, he said, “They tell me you are stepping out on me.” My first reaction was to laugh mostly because I hadn't heard the phrase "stepping out" since the invention of the rotary phone.

And then I thought about it.

Really?

Between work, work, nursing home visits, work, buying gas, taking the car in for repairs, going to church, doing laundry, grocery shopping, trying to squeeze in exercise, sleeping, napping, meetings, falling asleep at meetings, holiday parties, shoveling snow, going through snail mail, going through email, going through texts, volunteering and trying to keep my house from looking like a good prospect for “Hoarders,” I’m stepping out???

When the hell when???????

I couldn't hold it in any longer and laughed.

He was quite serious, though, and so the next five minutes or so were spent assuring him that I am not cheating on him and that I love him. I took him down Memory Lane to the first time we met, our wedding, our honeymoon, our dog, and our trips to his Scotland. When I was done, he was better. I was exhausted but he was better.

I pulled out my iPhone and pulled up the Nativity scene. “Remember this?” I asked.

He nodded and smiled, then the frown was back. “Where’s Joe?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Joe, Jesus’s dad.”

Sure enough, Joseph was missing.

Note to self: 1. Find Joe 2. Continue to be absolutely flummoxed and floored by dementia.