My Mother's Dementia: What We Both Lost

I spent last night in the ER with my mom. She’s 88. She’s becoming frail and her memory is fading. She can’t see (the kind of macular degeneration that isn’t treatable) and she can’t hear well (too stubborn to get a hearing aid). Her confusion is becoming a daily companion rather than an infrequent visitor.
In the examination room, they asked her simple questions. Either she didn’t answer or she replied to something no one had asked. I tried to help. “You’re here because you woke up last night and...”  Like a Mad Lib, I want her to fill in the blanks. The singsong tone of my own voice reminds me of doctor visits with my children, when I’d try to get them to answer the questions. “Honey, you’re here for your physical because you’re going where this summer?” It occurs to me, Mom likely did this for me as well.

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