by Robin Farnsworth | May 13, 2014 | Dementia
I rounded the corner from the elevator and scanned the small room. Why do all little old ladies seem to look alike? I thought. Then I heard my brother say, “There she is! Hi mom! “ I followed his eyes, his wide grin as he moved towards the corner of the little room....
by Robin Farnsworth | May 5, 2013 | Dementia, Loss
I heard the text ringing through as I was at work on Sunday. I could see it was from Bob, my brother and that there was a picture attached. I quickly opened it and smiled. There was my mom, obviously outside with Bob on a beautiful spring day, and clenched in her hand...
by Robin Farnsworth | Jan 21, 2013 | Hope, Loss
It’s freezing out. Literally, things are freezing by the minute, like car doors and the cat’s water dish and I’m sitting in the comfort of my dining room watching the birds and squirrels partying at the feeders, relieved I filled them yesterday. It was so beautiful...
by Robin Farnsworth | Nov 9, 2012 | Dementia
I snapped awake to the sound of my son’s voice calling up the stairs. “We’re leaving now, Mom.” His voice was gentle and low, but I bolted out of bed, brushed my teeth and hurried down stairs. What if the girls woke up? What if they found no one there? Would they cry...
