for that’s the stuff life is made of.”
―Benjamin Franklin
Time is something that seems to fly and drag at the same time. How is that possible you ask? Day after day as we deal with this monster called Dementia I waffle back and forth. Some days seem to drag on and on and on. Other days I realize how limited my time with Bob really is and I want time to stand still. In my heart I know I have no control over this, but as I sit on the deck with Bob in the sunlight of the mornings I look at him and see " MY BOB". The man that took my breath away when we first met. In the late afternoon hours when "Sundowning" begins I sit and search for glimpses of "Old Bob" in "New Bob's" face. I realize in those moments that time is not on our side and I need to make the best of each moment. How can just a span of a few hours make such a huge difference in a Dementia patients mind? I will never understand.
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