There are days, with dementia, when good memories
abound. When I visit Mom, almost all of the time, that’s the case. We're very lucky so far. She doesn’t
put together my visits into any kind of continuum very well, so every Monday
and Friday the visits seems a bit like a treat – like I haven’t been around for
a long time – and the good will ensues (there is a lesson to learn in this, I
think). Lots of love, lots of nice memories, smiles, laughs.
But not always.
