There's a sense of loss in all of this — not from the move to the retirement home, but from the sudden absence of purpose. That was my mom's quiet, constant lament. She still wanted to be useful. But she could no longer drive (thank goodness), and she couldn't remember where the remote was, or what to do with it once she found it.

When you're new to a parent with dementia, it's hard to watch a mind that capable begin to dim — like a lantern slowly running out of fuel. Each plateau burns a little less bright than the one before.

The most important thing I've learned is that my mom's reality is real to her. It isn't my version, but that doesn't make it any less true. I stopped needing to be right. I only needed to be there.

She still knows me most days. But there isn't much fuel left in that lantern that once burned so brightly.

(I’m still looking for the underwear on the lamp photo….stay tuned