How the Time Flies

I remember the moment so clearly.  I was a mom of three small boys ages 4, 3, and 1.  It was a beautiful spring day so the boys and I packed up the stroller to walk down to our park.  As the older boys ran and jumped and played, I pushed my giggling little guy on the baby swings.  Not meaning to eavesdrop, but being too close to avoid hearing, I listened in on a conversation between two moms.

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When Dementia Steals Mother’s Day

It was Mother’s Day two years ago.  My mom had come to my home for dinner.  We exchanged flowers and cards with one another.  As I pulled my card from its envelope and read the inside, I paused.

“Love, Barbara”

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