On Wednesday Maggie and I continued our commitment to at least one big outing a day. Her health continues to improve and I would say she is about at 98% of her baseline. (Translation: she is just about back to normal).
For our Wednesday excursion we went to the fantastic “Birth of Impressionism” exhibit at the deYoung museum (www.famsf.org). This is an exhibit from the Musee d’Orsay in Paris. We live very close to the deYoung and we walked over there in a drippy fog, hoping to beat some of the crowds. It was indeed crowded, but with our membership, we received the next viewing time, which was 4 minutes after we arrived. Perfect.
We go to the museum a lot and Maggie enjoys it, but she needs the running banter of conversation to stay involved. Because I was so enthralled with the exhibit, she was not getting enough entertainment. As I gazed upon the original of Whistlers Mother (or, La Mere de l’auteure), Maggie started using her communication device to get more attention.
Maggie, via communication device: MOM!
Me: yes Maggie I am right here, don’t you love this?
Mag: SLAM, (her fist comes down on her tray which is her “No” response.)
Me: Well that is too bad because we are here now and we are going to enjoy this.
I moved on through amazing painting from Renoir, Monet, Cezanne and, my personal favorite Pissarro. I was amazed and delighted. . Maggie? Not so much.
At one point, her chair strayed over the line on the floor, behind which the spectators were supposed to remain. The guard was on us in a moment. I apologized profusely and told Maggie to “watch it, sister” That was highly entertaining for her. However, out momentary encounter with the security guard could not sustain her interest.
As we looked at a series of Monet’s works, Maggie said, “Mom, I go home”.
I said, “sorry chicita, we are here for the duration.”
Pause. (She works on another sentence on her dynavox, which takes several moments to complete) Mom! I go my house now, mom.
Me. No dear, we are getting cultured. This is something you can always tell people you saw.
Pause. (works some more)
As she was working on, I came across a painting by Pissarro that I really love. I have had the print in my house for years, but it was the first time I ever saw the actual painting. It took my breath away. I have a separate post in the works regarding this work (I know, you cannot wait for that)
As I gazed at this lovingly, Maggie finished her sentence.
“Mom, outside, please mom”
Ok. I gave up. We were having two completely different experiences. I will go back without my teenage smarty-pants. We walked back home through the rain.
Guess what? Maggie was bummed out when we actually went home.
I told her, be careful what you wish for, smarty Marty.