Trapped

Every so often, I am reminded of the skills that people with dementia have lost. Yesterday Dean was unable to open a loaf of bread. Couldn't seem to twist that little bread tie just right to open the wrapper. He had to ask me to do it. And here's the man who used to fix anything that broke, from a broken water pipe to a couch that sagged in the middle. No problem was without a fix when my handyman husband was around.

I got a little taste of what his ineptness feels like though when we both got in the car yesterday after grocery shopping. I had lowered my window visor earlier, but as I rushed to get in the car from the frigid cold outside, the hair on the top of my head got caught on a zipper on my visor.

I was totally trapped in an awkward position, and unable to free my head from that visor without pulling my hair out. Dean mentioned scissors, but of course, I wasn't about to consider chopping off what little granny hair I have left, especially since that would mean losing hair on the top of my head with only an inch left intact. The only grandma with a Butch haircut. No thanks, not on my watch.

Fortunately, I had the wherewithal to think of taking the bun out on the back of my head, and sure enough when I loosened my locks, I could slide the hair right out of the zipper. My next thought though, was of the parking lot video camera, or any curious passerby, who may have been watching this comical scene. Oh, the embarrassment of it all. I was so glad that home was our next destination. I had had enough of public notoriety for one day.

There are so many things in life that we can get snagged on. But there's only one way to free ourselves. Ask God for the answer, and when He guides us with the proper moves, He'll allow us to slide right on through our difficulties.