Every night before leaving Dad, I move in close and say, “Arlabunakti” (Good night). Initially, when I started these nighttime visits, I was amazed to hear Dad reply “Arlabunakti” back to me. But you know how things go: new becomes normal. Then, one night, Dad surprised me with a next-level followup. “Kā ar buču?” (What … Continue reading Bedtime chronicles of dementia care
caregiving
The call
My iPhone rings, and Dad’s face lights up the screen. “Please talk to your father,” says the personal support worker. I try to ask what and why, but the PSW interjects. “Just talk to him,” she says firmly. * I’ve received calls like this several times over the past few months. Dad doesn’t know how … Continue reading The call
Postcards from my brain 