As summer nears, Dair is itching to go back to NC to live, and she brings up the topic frequently. Karl and I try to patiently and gently tell her that her mind is not as sharp as it once was and she is no longer able to care for herself. Of course, telling someone with dementia that they have that particular illness is futile, but what else can you do?
Recently we held the discussion yet again, and Dair got quite frustrated at the idea of not being able to go home for the summer. Finally she quit arguing and stomped off, threatening as she went to "get my gun and shoot things up." A few minutes later she returned and meekly said, "I don't know where my gun is."
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