Michel and Mom
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Mom’s still here. I can call her and talk to her, though not about French medical history. Not about anything, really — we mostly exchange affective states and appreciate the fact of each other’s being. Of the growing collection of losses I feel so acutely in the wake of Mom’s dementia, many are the obvious and expected. Her whole self. Her role as parent. Her daily phone calls to me. Other losses I am genuinely surprised by.
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