Aunt Olive update

Well, today Aunt Olive ate breakfast and by noon was hankering for mashed potatoes. She's still convinced she's going to die, and now has determined to thank everybody before she does.

The first on the list was the Hilton administrator, Barry. "Tell him I think of him often and am appreciative of all he has done," Olive said, "particularly those monthly bus rides."

This wasn't the same lady who was fighting for breath and not eating or drinking four days ago.

Then she looked me in the eye and said, "Make sure you thank Eric!"

I don't think I ever got it across that I was Eric.

She seemed to intuit that I was leaving, even though I haven't said a word. "Are you getting on that train?" she said. 

I finally said I might go to Tucson in Arizona.

"Well be sure to thank all the people in Arizona!" she said. 

She asked about numerous people from the past. I decided to let her know they were all gone.

Mama is gone? 

Yes, she died in 1969.

Millie?

Yes, she's gone, too. You're the only one left.

How about Gust Erickson?

Deader than a doornail, I said.

"Probably for the best," Olla replied. 

"Where is Mrs. Bentley?"

In the cemetery, I said, knowing I was probably right.

"Oh."

"So when am I going to die?"

They haven't scheduled you in yet, I said. The funeral home is booked solid. It'll be next week at the earliest. 

"I haven't died yet?"

Nope, you're still here.

"Oh."

"I sure could use some mashed potatoes."

Staff has reported other things Olive has said, most notably: 

"Why is it I am not allowed to manage my own death?"