The Fog

The Fog

A Walk with Dementia

Hidden in the swirling mist

and hazy curtains of fog,

I cannot find her.

I call out to her, hoping for a glimpse of her.

“Where are you?”

“Can you hear me?”

Suddenly the fog clears.

Her eyes focus on me

and she smiles.

A fleeting memory floats by,

but the fog sweeps in again.

She’s lost in the rubble of her ruined brain.

The best of her is gone…

hidden in the swirling mist

and hazy curtains of fog.

I hate this disease.

The Great Escape...

The nursing home called to tell me that Mom has escaped. It was right before dinner on Sunday evening. Caregivers and staff were busy rounding up residents for dinner. It is a busy time when the residents are taken down to the dining room. Mom had gone to the opposite end of the home and gone out the door.

Then she managed to open the gate and was rolling down the driveway into the street. It is not a busy

street, but still it could have been a dangerous situation for her.

For months she has worn an ankle monitor that would sound an alarm if she got close to a door. But recently it had gotten very tight and she had not tried to leave because she was really weak, so it was removed.

So no alarm, busy staff, and one runaway Granny. When they caught up with her, she told them she was going to town. She was fine.

Part of me says, yea Mom, you still have spunk, but then the other part of me says, what are you doing, Mom, and where were your caregivers. No good answers…..