The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, 83¼ Years Old

by Hendrik Groen

Grietje promised to be there, but extracted a promise from me in return: “Once I’ve gone gaga, will you please refrain from dragging me all over hell and creation?” “What do you mean?” She explained that it’s a misconception to assume people with Alzheimer’s must be entertained no matter what, to prod them out of their apathy. They’re taken along on outings, but have no idea where they are, who the people gabbing at them so brightly are, and why they have to climb into some strange little train. On top of that they’re given unfamiliar food to eat, and subjected to kisses from total strangers. “A person with dementia is going to need three days to recover,” Grietje sighed. “So when the time comes, just let me sit in my chair by the window.” I promised.