Just another day.

My buddy Wade flew in yesterday and is staying with us for a few days. He was just here at Christmas and stayed with us then too. He asked about Mum, as he always does, and was happy that she at least remembered him when he was here at Christmas. I told him things were worse, and not to count on it this time.
He got back late and crashed on the couch in the living room. Mum was up early, and she came into my room and asked me if that was Kevin sleeping on the couch – my brother who has been in Indonesia for months, and who she just talked to on the phone the day before. I told her it was Wade, and she said she didn’t know a "Wade", so there you go.
It is an amazing disease though. You just never know what will stick and what won’t. I heard her talking to Wade, saying it was her birthday March 24th, and that she would be 84. She hasn’t once remembered how old she is months, then, out of the blue, she suddenly remembers. Small glimmers of hope in an otherwsie dark picture.

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