A few years ago, my dad painted a portrait of Mom that, though well executed, troubled me for the expression he chose to apply to her face. Mom is shown with a Mona Lisa-type mysterious smile while her eyes are half closed, making her seem distant and oblivious. It is clearly a portrait of Mom with Alzheimer’s, the intelligence and brightness of her eyes are dimmed. The encroaching black background seems to be swallowing her whole, a sure metaphor for Alzheimer’s. Today I und

I am learning that it is often best not to delay or challenge Mom’s instincts when she’s in a bad mood. The sticky, humid heat is getting to her. We spent the morning wandering in town and having coffee before my dad left us for one of his meetings. By the time we walked back to their apartment, Mom complained of being soaked through. All she wanted to do was lie down. I tried to get her to paint with me. I took out the water colors, covered the table with newspaper, and posi