My now 95-year-old mom is obsessed with the clock I bought for her bedside table in hopes she’d stop taking the bigger one off the wall to read it—which she still does sometimes anyway. I’ve got a baby monitor with video, and when the motion sensor beep-beep-beeps, as it does many times a night, most often it’s because she’s playing with that dang clock, usually setting the time forward by an hour or more.
Many bold-faced clocks for “seniors” are digital, which seems like they’d be easier to read, only she had a hard time parsing that row of numbers. So I ordered the one pictured above for its large clear numerals and the option of a soft background light you can set to stay on. That light can also be made momentarily brighter by pressing a large button on the top. But that doesn’t turn out to be something she’s able to remember.
Leaving the hall light on used to be enough. But given my mom’s increasing confusion about where she is and what time it is, I now just leave her bedside lamp on its dimmest setting all night. Meanwhile, I’m sleeping upstairs with an eye mask to block out the hour and any light.
Some nights, as I’m settling her into bed, she becomes agitated, wanting to set the alarm for 6:00 am, though I can’t recall her ever needing to get up that early for anything, and she typically sleeps until 9:30 or 10:00. I either pretend to do it or tell her I already have. Occasionally, this is met with skepticism, but most of the time it brings her relief. Good, she’ll say as if, for once, I’ve finally done what she’s asked.
I was honored to have a short piece of creative nonfiction titled “Ordinary Details” in the inaugural issue of L’Esprit Literary Review. It’s a bit last minute, but if you’re in the New York City area, I’ll be reading a brief excerpt from A New Day at this July 30th event and would love to see you there.




Congrats on your writing being accepted. That is marvelous. Wish I could make it to the big city for your reading.
I remember the same issue with reading a digital clock that happened for my mother, too. The brain is strange territory !