I thought my mom knew me last week.
She kissed me and hugged me like she used to.
Then she asked me if I knew Maria.
Yeah, I know her. She’s your little girl trying not to cry because you don’t know her anymore.
Alzheimer’s is still a part of my life, and it is still ruthless.
~~~
I hope you all enjoy your paper this week. This last-minute column is all I have to do with it, because I’m off on an advent…
