Room service blues

This week, I will be spending a few days at a resort hotel in Ruidoso, where Mom still lives. I’ve stayed there several times, but one stay in particular sticks with me.

It would turn out to be just a few months before Dad became sick and never returned home, of course, we didn’t know that then. All we knew was that Dad’s mental state was continuing to decline. I went to visit Mom and Dad for a few days. During the stay, Dad hit Mom in the chin, claiming he was “shadow boxing” and Mom got in the way. They were supposed to come visit me at the hotel the next day. Mom was able to put on makeup to cover the bruise on her chin, but she wasn’t feeling much up to being out in public with Dad.

We had planned to eat at the hotel restaurant but I thought that would be a bad idea considering the circumstances, so I suggested room service, an indulgence my parents would never dream of normally. Surprisingly, Mom agreed quite readily. It was such a strange, awkward and sad meal. Due to my food allergy issues, the safest thing on the menu for me to eat was the lobster tail. I later wondered if Dad, who was hallucinating quite frequently by that point, was freaked out by the sight of the lobster tail. If he was, he didn’t let on. He gobbled down his burger with relish, completely oblivious to the sadness choking the room.

This time, Mom is the one ill but I hope my stay turns out to be a more positive memory.