Almost two years ago, I started this blog about my experience with my mom’s alzheimer’s disease. I wrote one post. Then I gave up. Too much was going on, and I was too tired to post.

But now, it feels important to pick it up again. I want to record and share what’s going on as it progresses (a very inappropriate word).

In the time since my first post, my mom has moved into assisted living. I no longer have to convince her to go to adult day care. It was an uphill battle, anyway; she hated it. She would spend her whole time at day care coloring and making drawings. When I’d go to visit her at home, she would hold her drawings up to show me.

“Look,” she’d say, waving the pages in front of my face.

“Very nice,” I’d say.

“Only $78,” she’d say, quoting the daily program cost.

She hated spending her very limited funds that way, and I can’t blame her. One good thing about her increasing confusion was that by the time she went into assisted living, she had no real sense of her money, so she couldn’t freak out about the price. Soon after moving in, she went on Medicaid, and it wasn’t hard to keep her blissfully ignorant of all the unsettling stages in that process. Ah, the blessings of alzheimer’s.