This is a story of love in the time of dementia. It is also a story of loss and healing when the past, in the form of memory, lifts off a person like mist off a tree.
It is a story of caretaking, the kind one does for a person at the end of life when the stakes are clear and time is finite, when it’s time to let the past be the past. But it also a story of self-care, of learning to take in the love that comes at you in the craziest of disguises, in the smallest of fragments, and in the most unlikely places. Ultimately it is a story of letting go. Not the enlightened kind. A letting go that you fight with everything you have. And when it happens, when your mother no longer has a past, there you are, starting fresh outside of time, outside a lifetime of stories you told yourself about who she is, who you are and why.