‘Lee… Lee something,’ my mother answered tentatively.
‘Okay,’ the doctor smiled. ‘What day is it?’
‘Tuesday?’
‘No, it’s Wednesday,’ I told her, disappointed.
‘What’s the date today, Regina?’ the doctor asked, looking at my mother, smiling.
‘I know that one – it’s 21st August, 1960!’ she answered confidently.
I sighed. ‘That’s my birthday, ma!’
‘But that’s the day I got a present – my baby!’ her eyes teared.
I escorted my mother out of the doctor’s clinic. We were closer to confirming my mother’s dementia, but I will always be my mother’s present.