Rabbit ears...

This journey, that is Alzheimer's, can be fascinating. During the times in which I am able to step back and look at it objectively, I am amazed at the randomness of the disease. How does it pick and choose the details of my mother's personality and memory that it allows to show through? And, how does it decide when it will allow it?

My mom has always had a dry, sarcastic wit (a surprising trait in this family, right?). The other day when we got to my brother's for "his turn" Mom asked to use the bathroom.
Brother: Sure. It's where it always is.
Mom: *snottily* I wasn't sure if I was allowed to use it.
Brother: I think everyone who is full of sh** should use it.
Mom: Then why aren't you in there?

A clear thought process and wit.  Why is that allowed through but she can't see that her clothes are dirty or inappropriate?  How does she always remember where her bedroom is but doesn't remember that she lives here? Why does it allow her to forget who I am but know that she loves me?

I imagine her brain as that antenna we used to have on top of the television back in the day. You remember those. You had to twist and turn those rabbit ears to get your favorite show to come into focus. Maybe if Mom stands just right, turns around and hops on one foot while holding a piece of tinfoil this will all go away. Probably not, but, now that I think about it, that routine only worked until what you really wanted to see came back on the screen.