She was weepy as she toileted this morning. I asked her what she was thinking about. Could she tell me why she was so sad?

She had been worried that she would not wake up. I did not know what to say to her. I think the tears were relief that she had another day. (I have not dreamt of my own death.)

The tears were still coming during breakfast. Her sense of impending demise was strong. I hugged her for a bit while getting her juice and coffee cake. She seemed to relax and she focused on the newspaper. I went to watch the TV news and work the Quordle.

Later as she was getting dressed, she thanked me for taking care of her last night. I had to turn away and focus on my chores for Friday. I told she was welcome before I started to tear up.

Somewhere in the recesses of her cognitive brain she is pondering the future. It seems as though she does not see very far into the future. She has a much better vision of the past and sometimes the past is current to her.

And it rises to the surface upon occasion.

I think that the hardest part of this damnable disease is the rollercoaster of feelings, emotions and moods. I have written this before but it seems like one minute after a sane normal conversation exchange the train will go off the rails.

Today is developing into one of those. It is hard to keep the caravan moving in the same direction.

Moments ago when I asked if she wanted her bedtime pills, she responded , what for? It’s daytime.

Carpe Diem