She stood at the foot of the bed, packing her suitcase.
“Mom, what are you doing? We just got here,” I said.
She turned to look at me, her face a map of confusion. “Aren’t we going somewhere?” She looked around the guest room of our friend’s house. “Where are we again?”
This is how it began for my mother, the heartbreaking treachery that is dementia. We we…
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