Essays on LBD Caregiving

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I wanted him to be the old Nelson, not who he was becoming after years of creeping dementia. I wanted to resurrect the Nelson I once knew and preserve the relationship we had nurtured as it was. I considered that “us” to be as good as it gets.

LBDA did not exist when my mother passed away. Ten years passed and I never heard much more about LBD. I realized more had to be done. You can’t fight a disease no one knows about.

The day at the nursing home started out discombobulated. I lost my car keys on the way into Nelson’s room where I discovered it looked like moving day. All the books were off his shelves. Blankets were balled up. It happens now and then. I’m never sure if he really is preparing to move out or just doing busy work. I think it may have been busy work today because his first words to me were, “Wait ‘til you see the barn!

“What barn?” I asked.

Outside my window the sun shines its October brightness on a scantily clad maple tree that has shown off its fall color for each of the twenty-five years I have lived here. Change is in the air.