We deal in fragments

We deal in fragments because we have little else. Some are beautiful, shining, concentrated; some are ever more striking than the imperfect whole. But precious fragments, delicate and unique, are fractured from her being every day. Broken off and discarded without her consent. We try to catch them desperately but they fall much faster than…

The progression

Things are progressing, I know. Despite my trying to breathe in every detail of the moment in some childlike hope of preserving it–the shop-bought fragrance that releases in occasional puffs from beneath the hostess trolley by the door, the warm rumblings of the cat’s belly against my thigh, the silenced tennis match on the TV,…

The lady in the mirror

I read a true, short story in an Alzheimer’s version of Chicken Soup for the Soul that touched me deeply. My beloved grandma, Dora, is currently in the latter stages of this terrible disease, so I am doing a lot of reading around the subject, as well as experiencing first-hand the strangeness, the suffering, the…

Simple Saturday

We all know, deep down, it’s the simple things that count.  But it’s been nice to put that knowledge into practice today–a relaxed Saturday wedged between two crazy busy weeks. My mum is staying with me, on a short break from caring for my grandmother, and more than anything she has needed to just unwind…

Eudora

This beautiful lady, Eudora (Dora) is my grandmother.  She has Alzheimer’s.  She turned 85 on the 17th of August this year and, in the past two weeks, her mobility has decreased to very little, her speech is slurred and she sleeps much of the time.  She can barely lift her chin from her chest.  It…