Big Protects Little
Ma has an active social life, in her sleep. The line between sleep and waking is porous; she can spend a day waiting on someone that can never show up, like an eight-year-old waiting up for Santa.
write. rewrite. typewrite.
Ma has an active social life, in her sleep. The line between sleep and waking is porous; she can spend a day waiting on someone that can never show up, like an eight-year-old waiting up for Santa.
When I don't know where I'm going, it's best to start, not at the beginning, but where I am. Except, for someone with dementia or caregiving for a loved one with dementia, where you are is a moving target.
Q: What do alcoholics and addicts say all the time? / A: Leave me alone, I'm not hurting anyone but myself. Even after thirty years of twelve steps, I'd been underestimating the impact I had on her life. Then our lives were thrown against a wall of dementia like a handful of spaghetti, and I got to see what stuck.
Aimless. With no clear plan of going somewhere, no “there” to get to, there is also no clear plan on how to get home.
There are words that make me sad: Ma looks me in the eye, "You're really so good to me." Sometimes followed by an "I love you." I don't doubt she loves me, but I'm never sure if she means what she's saying at that moment, or if it's part of her survival mechanism—staying on the …