It was a day for banking memories.
We shopped, dined out, laughed and cried. We chatted about missing Chris, her son; my brother, who passed away last July. At the end of the day, mom remembered none of what we’d done or where we’d been.
When I tried to help her recall, she said sadly, “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I remember?”
“Mom, it’s OK. I’ll remember for you,” I told her as we sat on her front-porch steps under the apple tree, me fighting back tears.
“Sometimes I think it’s better when you can’t remember some things,’’ she said. Continue reading “A Memory Bank Depleted by Dementia”