Today I’m learning about loving strangers. It started out as a typical day with my parents. I gave mom a bath. She howled and cried. I got her dressed and she said the process was stupid and that she hated it. I read the mail to my dad (he’s legally blind), scheduled a doctor’s appointment for mom, ordered some vitamins for dad, cleaned out the cupboard under the bathroom sinks when I found a leak, and then did some more cleaning and vacuuming.
As I was going out the door Dad thanked me sincerely and Mom cheerfully asked, “Are you Eva Miller?” (Eva was her maid-of-honor almost sixty years ago.)
“No, Mom, I’m not Eva.”
“Oh, you’re not Eva?”
This got me thinking what a labor of love Alzheimer’s is. I’m not saying this for myself; I have it so easy compared to most. My dad is the primary care…
View original post 428 more words