Monthly Archives: September 2012

Dementiaville_6

Calling mom can feel like walking barefoot on a morning’s first cold snow. Silent, deliberate, a hint of the treacherous afoot, and then, with each ring the ache of brain freeze rushes in. Monday, Tuesday. Wednesday, Thursday . . . … Continue reading

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Dementiaville-5

Grrrr, anger. It makes you lucid. Mom sits on the couch drifting downriver in her head, appearing oblivious to the streaming conversation taking place between me and her friend R. It is midwest Labor Day scorching, so I get up … Continue reading

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