she sweeps on Christmas Eve

No, that’s not a typo. I really mean “sweeps” not “sleeps” (although she is doing that now).
When I finally got up this morning and went to see what my mother was up to, I found her standing over a pile of stuff she had swept up from the floors and rugs. She didn’t know what to do next — couldn’t remember where the dust pan was.
She likes to sweep because she remembers how to do that and seems to need to do things with her hands. This afternoon she had a couple of rubber bands on her wrists and kept putting them off and on, in between which she wound them around her fingers. I wish I could think of something I could give her to do, but the options are infinitesimal — given the limits of what she is able to do combined with what she is willing to do.
For supper I will go through the Christmas Eve food rituals — a meatless meal of soup made from dried imported-from-Poland mushrooms. and also pierogi, which I bought at Shop Rite. My mother used to make the best pierogi I’ve eve tasted. She had it down it a science. Although she can’t make them anymore, I probably could. But I just didn’t have the energy this year. Maybe next.

Manana.

Merry Manana.