On a recent Tuesday afternoon, I stopped by the nursing home to visit a woman whom I hadn’t seen in a while. I’ll confess that I haven’t been visiting her very often, because she doesn’t seem to ever know who I am.
That Tuesday, though, she saw me and lit up. “Hello, hello,” she said. I sat down, surprised at this warm greeting. “Maybe things are better,” I thought, “maybe she is remembering who I am.”
No. As soon as she continued speaking, it became clear that she thought I was her mother.
