When I read the story, I thought about Ronnie's grandmother. When Ronnie and I first met (we were 9) we went to his grandparent's house -- all the cousins were there ranging in age from 4 or 5 through something in the 20s. We had a great time and Gramma cooked a wonderful dinner for the entire family. It was a family reunion. Now, Grampa has been dead for 5 or 6 years, and gramma has Altzheimer's and is living in a rest home. The farm was sold to Ronnie's uncle with the money used to care for Gramma. She has excellent care at the home, but she hardly is the same person. She still knows who Ronnie and I are, but she doersn't know who most of the cousins are, nor any of her own children, much less their spouses. When we visit her, she tells the nurses and staff who we are and always introduces us as if it was the first time we ever visited. Of course the staff know us, but she introduces us anyway. She calls us her "lover boys" and sometimes kinda winks are whatever staff member she is introducing us to and tells them that we are "homo-sexual" stringing the word out as if it were 10 sylables long. I guess its because we are different that she remembers us. She doesn't even know Ronnie's mom, her own daughter, but she knows us. I almost have to cry when we visit he as it makes me so sad to see her like that. Physically she is in great shape, and will probably live a long time (she's 88 now). There is a cat in the Dementia area of the home who is named Morris (he's orange). Gramma calls him "Kitty". All the cats that they had at the farm we named "Kitty" and all the dog's were "Duke". Sometimes that had 20 barn cats all named Kitty, but only one dog at a time. Mom (Ronnie's mom) is bringing Gramma home for Thanksgiving and Ronnie and I are really looking fiorward to it.
Sorry to bore you with all this, but I had to express my feelings for this lovely lady too.