Sandy and my mother had a close bond. Don't laugh about the possibility of olfactory
attraction. Both had been immersed in alcohol.
I was glad my mother delighted in Sandy. I was glad she formed a bond with anyone at all.
I was glad my mother delighted in Sandy. I was glad she formed a bond with anyone at all.
Her dementia seemed to begin suddenly. Or perhaps I hadn't been paying attention.
She announced that she’d seen Sam, then three, in a yarmulke, walking down the street with her doctor. She was convinced this was real.
She announced that she’d seen Sam, then three, in a yarmulke, walking down the street with her doctor. She was convinced this was real.
Her brain is shrinking, they told us when she was
hospitalized with seizures. Had she tried to quit drinking?
Maybe she’d been inspired by her positive thinking pamphlets. I had to honor her intent. But it was too dangerous to go through withdrawal at home.
Maybe she’d been inspired by her positive thinking pamphlets. I had to honor her intent. But it was too dangerous to go through withdrawal at home.
But she had little success staying sober. And within five
years she was almost completely psychotic.
Korsakoff's
syndrome: fallout from thiamine deficiency after years of heavy drinking.
My mother died at age
sixty-eight. Today would have been her ninetieth birthday.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.