I visit Thelma in the skilled care unit at Willow Valley. I have brought her the homemade lasagna she loves so much. When she sees me, she smiles and intends to say, "Thank you," I think–but instead says, "You came all this way to give me this? That was dumb." I sit beside her. She glances toward the window and muses, "I like to listen for the Amish horses and buggies passing by." We wait together. In a while, we might play dominoes or gin. I will watch her oxygen levels and listen for the sound of hooves.
Paul Freeman
26/1/2024 01:14:54 pm
Such visits are always difficult.
Sue Clayton
27/1/2024 11:37:57 pm
Dementia comments can sometimes convey unintentional hurt. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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