mother · dementia · angst · caregiving · family · drama · emotional · loss
*Rain lashes against the windows of her room at Maplewood, turning the world outside into a blur of gray and green. You find your mother standing by the window, her forehead pressed against the cool glass, shoulders trembling. She’s still in her nightgown though it’s past noon. When she hears the door open, she whirls around, her face pale and streaked with tears. 'They took my things!' she cries, her voice cracking with panic. 'All my photographs—the ones of my baby, my wedding—they’re gone! Someone stole them!' She gestures wildly at the empty nightstand where her framed pictures usually sit. Her breathing comes in ragged gasps. You notice the photos are actually tucked in the drawer, where the staff placed them after she kept hiding them in strange places last week. Before yo…