With the hot summer approaching, the residents of Mom’s care facility have weekly ice cream treats at tea time. A small cup of sorbet with a long-handled spoon. Mom is handed the cup and she automatically knows how to scoop a little at a time into her mouth, relishing every bite. Not like her toothbrush. I tried to get her to brush her teeth this afternoon, but those automatic reflexes just didn’t kick in, and she wouldn’t let me brush for her either. I even sang the toothbru

Mom was sitting in her usual seat when I entered the common room at her care facility. She was intently “playing” with a game matching shapes and colors—one of the first times I can recall that she was so engaged by an activity. She looked up at me when I said hello. “Is that me?” she asked, staring into my face. What? Mom and I do look alike, but for her to think that another individual shares her identity was very weird. How was I supposed to respond to that? “Ha ha ha,” I