My husband wanders lost on social media after I kiss him goodnight. Tonight, he called me at 11:30 and asked why I hadn't told him we were relocating to Wyoming in the fall. I asked him how he'd cooked up the idea and he told me it was written beneath a picture I'd posted of the two of us cuddling in bed, paying the bills. And perhaps that is where he encountered the information, but it wasn't directly affixed to our image. Rather, a friend of mine, a fellow poet has been accepted to grad school in Laramie, and this evening he shared the news with the Facebook world.
I explained the mixup to my husband, helped him through the steps of pushing his call light, asking for an Ativan and help putting on his CPAP, and then wished him a goodnight.
This evening I breached the topic of post-stroke apathy.