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Tag Archives: Mom
Remembering My First Pair of Skis
They were a Christmas present. Dad had ripped two boards about four feet long and four inches wide. The board was crafted into a gradual point on one end. The point itself was about a one-inch square. All of this … Continue reading →
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Tagged boots, Dad, equipment, leather straps, Mom, present, skis, wood
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Come, See a Miracle
Originally posted on June 13, 2011 I think I was four years old. We lived on a farm and on a routine day after our evening meal, which we called supper, my Dad and Mom would go out to the … Continue reading →
An Unexpected Conversation
The following record of a conversation between my mother and me is an example of how we learned to talk to each other when she was diagnosed with severe dementia and needing help with basic physical care and astute supervision. … Continue reading →
Come, See a Miracle
I think I was four years old. We lived on a farm and on a routine day after our evening meal, which we called supper, my Dad and Mom would go out to the barn for a couple of hours … Continue reading →
Don’t Ask Me Again!!!
My mother kept asking the same questions. It took me a couple of years to really face the fact that she asked again because she had no memory of having asked before. As her dementia progressed there were episodes where … Continue reading →
Silverstrands 