As my mom descends into dementia it isn't easy being around her. She has lost what little patience she ever had. On one hand she relates how she was raised to sit still and let adults talk, and how oppressive that was. At least she said that during her days when her mind worked better.
Today she wants you to sit still so she can talk, but her talk is garbled. It is tough to see that. It is tough for me to see that, but I had to decide to either try to make you sit still or to let you be just who you are.
You have to be you, son. And I have to be your dad. It is ok to see that my mom isn't who she was, and I am sorry you have to see this.
I love you son - keep chasing birds, climbing trees, and laughing. It is the light of my life. It would be the light of her life also - as it was when she was well, and the few times now when her mind is clear.
Love,
Dad
 |
| She still likes her sweets |
 |
| There is a delight in being a little boy |
 |
| And I realized I never want this to change |
