Category: dementia

Blessed are the P’s

Blessed are the Painters of pictures for their work brings joy to others. Blessed are the Painters of chicken coops for they beautify the world, or at least a tiny piece of it. Blessed are the Preservers of the Past;┬áblessed are those who Push… Continue Reading “Blessed are the P’s”

N is for Needs

But do you imagine that if you become as prosperous as the United States you will no longer have needs? Here the needs are even greater. Full bellies have not brought peace and satisfaction but dementia, and in any case not all the bellies… Continue Reading “N is for Needs”

Laughter IS Good Medicine

Last week, when the EMTs arrived at the house, one asked my father, “How do you feel?” “With my hands,” he replied. The EMT didn’t get it. I don’t think he expected an 80-something man who had just had three syncopal episodes to be… Continue Reading “Laughter IS Good Medicine”

Update on Dad

I realize that I sidestep the issue all the time, dancing around, skirting the elephant in the room. It’s far easier to talk about the brindle boxer that is about to be euthanized than it is to talk about my father. “How’s your father… Continue Reading “Update on Dad”


I took part in the Rabbit Room gift exchange this year. Below is a letter for the person whose name I drew. Dear Rabbit Room Gift Exchange person, I am so so sorry. Spoiler alert: I bought a Baseball Hall of Fame cap for… Continue Reading “Important”

2:30 AM

“I’m not doing this on purpose, you know,” my father says to me. It’s 2:30 AM. I’m pointing at his clock, the new one we got that tells the time and the time of day. Above the 2:30 AM the word “PREDAWN” appears. My… Continue Reading “2:30 AM”

Sitting in the Ashes

A friend sent Bud a text Sunday evening that said, “Tell Sally that I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to chat. I don’t think crying counts as chatting.” She and I have done that dance before — asking how things are going and then watching… Continue Reading “Sitting in the Ashes”

Buried Gold

It’s been a rough few days… make that weeks. My father has been struggling with anxiety. Anxiety and dementia go hand-in-hand. The world doesn’t make sense. Memories jumble around. People telescope in and out. Switchbacks define the landscape. “DON’T GO THROUGH THAT DOOR!” he… Continue Reading “Buried Gold”

While I Was Away

I can still see the woman’s face as she said the words to me. She started off saying, “It’s such a good thing you’re doing — keeping your father home.”┬áBut then she stopped smiling and looked me in the eye, “You can’t do this… Continue Reading “While I Was Away”

Connect the Dots

My father asked his primary care physician yesterday,”Did I ever tell you how I came to Cooperstown?” “I’d love to hear that story,” she said. She wheeled her stool a little closer and leaned it to listen. “When I was in high school, I… Continue Reading “Connect the Dots”