Most afternoons of the week, my Beloved leaves his office and drives the couple miles to the assisted living facility where his 92 year old mother resides. (I’ve posted previously about her here.) Some days, she’s able to converse a bit; most days, she tries to make sense but can’t. She sets her focus on things that appear wrong (a lost teacup someone must have stolen), but are often her perception (the teacup is in its place on an upper shelf in the cabinet).
The photo above shows my Beloved and his mom (Charlotte) during a Christmas dinner a couple years ago. When the picture was taken, she was still able to converse and interact with others. She has always been enthusiastic about holiday celebrations and decorations, but as her dementia has progressed, she seems uncertain about things that were once important to her.
In last week’s Veteran’s Day post, I wrote about my granddad’s service during World War I and noted the tragically short arc of Charles Frederick West’s life after being gassed on the battlefield. My brother-in-law reminded me of another Charles Frederick … Robson who also served in that war and who also suffered mustard gas poisoning during his service. Charles Frederick Robson was father to Charlotte (above) and grandfather to my Beloved (and his brothers). I would be terribly remiss in not recognizing the service of this veteran as well. Continue reading “Due Honor”