I was right to be worried about getting Daddy to leave with us. We'd gotten him all the way down to the front door of the lobby when, without so much as a shot across the bow, he turned and headed straight back to the familiarity of his room, inchmeal, with Bro, Auntie, and Cousin… Continue reading [daughter chronicles] Slice 9: Living with Vascular Dementia when you don’t have it.
Squeezed into a three-sided box. Nowhere to walk except straight ahead, into the blaze. I got up the morning after our social worker's call, knowing I could not go on the unhealthy way I had been. I stopped spinning my wheels in the sand pit where no help was to be had. I was no… Continue reading [daughter chronicles] Slice 8: Living with Vascular Dementia when you don’t have it.