It’s becoming painful to be around Mom. She’s so confused; my heart breaks for her. She’s so restless. Even on sedatives, she is unmoored. She lays down, she tosses and turns, she gets up after a few minutes, she walks around aimlessly, as though she’s searching. She sees things that I can’t, she reaches into space to grab something that’s not there. She swats at me. She tries to eat my hands when I attempt to feed her. Her words generally don’t make sense to me. I feel so badly that she’s communicating in a way that is coherent to her, and I simply cannot understand. I try different responses. Some land, some don’t, and with the ones that don’t she becomes even more frustrated. Today, as we were on our afternoon drive she started screaming and crying, clutching her stomach. I asked her if she wanted to go home, and she nodded. I turned the car around, and we were back at her residence within 10 minutes. I asked her if she needed to use the bathroom and she nodded, then walked into a closet. I gently lead her to the bathroom and helped her on the toilet. After she finished, she seemed to be better, but nodded when I asked if she was tired. She laid on the bed, curled up, and I sat on the bed next to her, in the curve of her stomach, stroking her hair. She began to relax, and I told her it was okay. She could leave when she’s ready; we’ll be okay. She opened her eyes and cried, “Jerry!” As tears rolled down my face, I continued stroking her hair and asked her if she was ready to see Dad. She nodded, and her eyes closed.