A few years ago, my mother was dying by inches. She had dementia and didn't know us. She had to be fed; she was incontinent; she couldn't walk. By the last few weeks, she couldn't talk at all. She lived down in DC and I took the train down to see her now and then, not often enough of course.
Back then I had a sort of friend up here in CT -- actually her kid was the same age as mine and they occasionally played together. Anyway, she frequently complained about her interfering mother and mother...
Published on July 02, 2010 12:51