Mine? All mine?

She loved them - the cotton, flowery-pattern pajamas.

We presented them after dinner last night.
It had been a mysteriously stressy, tiring evening. Okaasan had gone downtown by subway in the afternoon, but when we called her to remind her to come home for dinner - she didn't get ON the train to come. We kept calling, and checking on the GPS - and she remained somewhere in the subway station area - always there and talking about "getting on the train now"...but not actually doing it.
Finally at 7.45 pm she came home. DS went out to meet her in the local streets and bring her back - looking exhausted.

So, after a quiet dinner the Birthday Present II.
She opened the bags so carefully, looking at the wrapping paper and the bow, and the name. Finally opening the bag to take out the jim-jams.
Then stroking them, and unfolding them, and commenting on them,...and stroking them, and checking the labels many times.
"Flowers! Pink! It's cotton...it's a French name! It's stylish....an old lady like me having stylish clothes...oh...pink!...flowers...French".

Happy.
Job well done.

But she didn't wear them. She slept in an old blouse and her trousers.
The new pajamas left on the sofa among other clothes.
Maybe I should scrunch them up a bit, so they look worn - I fear she may keep them "for a special time/never".

But it's good: she liked the present. She was happy.
An she knew what a present was. There are videos on the Internet of people with dementia receiving presents and not understanding what to do with them: so just sitting holding the parcel and things around them, having lost the concept of "present/open/happy".

Okaasan still knows a good present and (almost) what to do with it.
:-)