Nancy Dear, Dear Nancy
During this past January, I admitted my wife of fifty-five years, Nancy Austin, to a memory care facility as she increasingly needed special care with the diagnosis of dementia. Within six weeks, a lockdown occurred during which our family saw her only through a windowpane. Talking with her depended on the availability of staff cell phones, always unpredictable. The grandchildren, children, and fr...
During this past January, I admitted my wife of fifty-five years, Nancy Austin, to a memory care facility as she increasingly needed special care with the diagnosis of dementia. Within six weeks, a lockdown occurred during which our family saw her only through a windowpane. Talking with her depended on the availability of staff cell phones, always unpredictable. The grandchildren, children, and fr...
