For the past four-and-a-half years I have been flying most weekends from Los Angeles to Sacramento to see my mom, who has for at least a year longer been evaporating from clear pond to muddled puddle under the stare of the sinister Sun of Alzheimer's and the dementia that comes with it, and my brother, her Caretaker. They live in Rancho Cordova. After some consideration I've decided to write about it, at least a little, in occasional installments, the first of which is this.
25 February, 2024
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