Visiting my mom these days tends to fill me with trepidation. What will I find this time? Each visit brings something new–cuts on her face from falling out of bed, an unpaid bill with possible consequences, confusion about the location of her hairdresser she’s been seeing for nearly 20 years.

At this point, Mom still knows who I am and isn’t confused in any way about me, but I worry that one day soon she won’t know my son. He’s growing so quickly and looks so much older already. I’m afraid that one day she won’t recognize him, and who will be more heartbroken when that happens? My son or my mother?

This last visit, though, I wasn’t worried about that. We already knew what special surprise we had waiting for us. We had a task that needed to be accomplished. The search was on….to find Mom’s teeth.

Doesn’t this sound like a Janet Evanovich novel?  Crazy!

But it’s what needed to be done. Apparently Mom took her teeth out sometime in the middle of the night. She found her bottom teeth somewhere WAY behind her bedside table, but no top teeth. So the hunt was on!

As my son and I looked under and in the couch, I started to wonder if he’d remember this one day and how he’d look back on it. Will he remember it fondly or just shake his head and think how bizarre things were? Or maybe both?

After the couch there was searching under the bed, behind the bed, under tables and bureaus and chairs. But still no teeth. And this, my friends, was over a week ago. Mom can chuckle about it, but I know it bothers her. She keeps saying how funny it feels not having her top teeth in during the day. Where the hell could the teeth be?!? She has a cat, and honestly, I even looked in the cat box just in case he dragged them in there. It would be horrible if they were in there, but at least they would have been found!

I am really trying to find humor wherever I can. I think when you love someone who has dementia, you *must* find humor and happiness wherever and whenever it’s possible. There are so many bad days and bad visits and dreaded phone calls, that when I have a good afternoon with my mom, I hold onto it with everything I have. I must remind myself that there are still good times ahead. They might not be like they were before and they won’t be as frequent. There will be more good moments than good days.

But that’s something. And right now I’ll take it.