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Instead of a magical cure, I pray for an end to my mother’s life. Ironically, Mummy, as her family often calls her, is in remarkable physical health.At age 92, she takes few medications and is ambulatory.She is entering the latter stages of dementia and has already lost so much cognitive ability.Even with all the research and focus on Alzheimer’s, there is no cure and not even effective treatment or drugs that will slow the progression of this elusive disease.Every day she seems to withdraw a little more, and I’m no longer sure she even knows I am her daughter. She now needs help with everything — even the most basic human functions.At this point, I believe she is simply existing in her body.
We've just bought a games compendium from amazon (has ludo, snakes & ladders, chess, draughts, pick up sticks, dominoes, cards, dice games etc) and our 4 year old loves it.
I don’t even believe in a higher power, let alone one true God.
Even so, for the past several years I often find myself praying.
In fact, with the aid of a walker, Mummy strides up and down the halls in her care center — sometimes for hours.
When she is walking the halls, Mummy often appears to have a purpose and a destination in mind. Up close, it is immediately apparent Mummy is locked into a prison from which there is no parole.