A lost post.

So much has been happening this past month, I can't remember what some of my notes that I made for blogposts indicated.

For example, I have notes about a funny comment made by the one resthome resident who I always joke with -

the last th[in]g you want in a pandemic is an [illegible - something like Eng. stk].

I can't remember why she said it, but I know she said it because there's a note about flowers, either the flowers she got sent by an old physical therapist of hers, or because of a flower I got from a bush outside and put in her pocket for her, when we popped outside for a bit while she was waiting for her appointment to happen downstairs in an office off of the lobby.

So much of our lives passes by like that: no real record, no real memory.