by Robin Farnsworth | Jan 14, 2018 | Dementia, Loss, Love
My eyes snapped open as I heard the soft creak of the stairs, the gentle whoosh of the front door, then a few minutes later, an engine turn over. As it idled for a minute, my husband rolled over next to me. “Why does she do that?” he asked in a...
by Robin Farnsworth | May 5, 2015 | Blog Post, Dementia, Loss, Love
A printed card means nothing except that you are too lazy to write to the woman who has done more for you than anyone in the world. And candy! You take a box to Mother—and then eat most of it yourself. A pretty sentiment. —Anna Jarvis Anna Jarvis. You probably...
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 | Jun 12, 2012 | Love, Random
I remember a comment made to me by an elderly woman who was a patient of mine. It was early morning and my shift was almost over. I moved quietly about her room, hoping to not disturb her, yet I could feel her watching me and finally I turned to discover I was right....
by Robin Farnsworth | Apr 23, 2012 | Hope, Loss
My husband and I had just settled into a booth at one of our favorite breakfast spots yesterday. It was a Saturday, a beautiful spring morning at the end of school vacation week, so the atmosphere seemed happy and boisterous for the small coffee shop with an upbeat...
