27/03/2026
Dementia Chronicles…
What a day… one I won’t soon forget.
It started simple enough… lunch with a great friend. A moment of normalcy. A breath.
All the while knowing what the afternoon would bring … a visit from a chaplain, a social worker, and ultimately a hospice nurse for my mom.
And you know what…
It was all surprisingly good.
-There was peace in it.
-There was compassion in it.
-There was dignity in it.
Tomorrow, a medical bed and additional support arrive … all designed for one purpose… to make her as comfortable as possible. And that matters more than anything right now.
But I have to say this…
The speed, the coordination, the level of care hospice has provided, compared to the struggle of trying to navigate care years ago, it’s been nothing short of impressive. Truly.
Still… there are moments that hit you in the chest.
Today, they reminded me to have her DNR printed and ready, on the yellow paper provided, for possible first responders. When actually there are no further directives. The DNR is full and final. I’ve accepted this.
That doesn’t get easier to hear.
It doesn’t sit light.
But I understand it.
And in the middle of all of it… they kept saying the same thing:
“Your mom seems happy.”
That gave me something to hold onto.
I won’t lie, I broke down a few times today. And in one of those moments, I told a friend it felt like I was planning and facilitating death.
She stopped me.
And she was right.
This isn’t about ending anything…
This is about honoring everything.
It’s about making sure that whether my mom has days, months, or even years… she is surrounded by comfort, care, dignity, and love.
That’s the mission now.
And for that… I am incredibly grateful.
To her hospice team, thank you. You’ve been nothing short of amazing.
❤️