December 31, 2022:
"I don't like Mexicans in the house," says the alcoholic landlady. "I don't like them seeing my things."
Naturally I'll deny her a vote on this issue. For peace in the family it's better to pass it off with jokes. "All they're likely to see here is dust bunnies." She laughs with what seems to be genuine hilarity, and I let the fraught moment pass.
There are times when she's coherent, and personable. Others — many others — when she's simply not present. Days will pass without responses, punctuated by infantile explanations not much more mature than The dog ate my homework.
Empathy, and concern. Empathy: her behavior is familiar from my ex's years ago, so much so that I have to be conscious not to generalize inappropriately. Concern: for me as much as her, since this is certain to have implications.