It will come to me

Yesterday I visited a woman with severe dementia.  Typically people with Alzheimer’s or dementia are quite enjoyable to visit.  Enjoyable in the sense that there is no awkardness or certainly no need for it.  No pressure for small-talk, no need to fill in an silences, etc.  Conversations just sort of ramble for the part.  Of course there is always some sadness in these encounters.  I mean I can’t help but have some sympathy for a sweet old lady who kept trying to remember something.  In one instance she finally said, without any real frustration, if its important it will come to me.  I’m still trying to process that one.

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