We visited some gardens. My dad was being pushed in a wheel chair. Many of his grandchildren were running around. It was a warm day. My dad’s son and son-in-law pushed him around the gardens.

We visited some gardens. My dad was being pushed in a wheel chair. Many of his grandchildren were running around. It was a warm day. My dad’s son and son-in-law pushed him around the gardens.

After looking at and reading about your grief, I also know that I will grieve. I will grieve my mother. She has not died, but she is losing her memory and each day I speak to her, it is painfully evident that she is hanging on to cope with the loss of memory. She repeats a lot now. She says the same information over and over. But I don’t mind, because one day, I may not hear her voice any more. So, I listen to her voice. And hope that I will always remember its tenor, its tonality, its pitch. I hope I will capture her moods and how her voice inflects. I love her. And I hate to imagine life without her. But it is inevitable.

After looking at and reading about your grief, I also know that I will grieve. I will grieve my mother. She has not died, but she is losing her memory and each day I speak to her, it is painfully evident that she is hanging on to cope with the loss of memory. She repeats a lot now. She says the same information over and over. But I don’t mind, because one day, I may not hear her voice any more. So, I listen to her voice. And hope that I will always remember its tenor, its tonality, its pitch. I hope I will capture her moods and how her voice inflects. I love her. And I hate to imagine life without her. But it is inevitable.

After looking at and reading about your grief, I also know that I will grieve. I will grieve my mother. She has not died, but she is losing her memory and each day I speak to her, it is painfully evident that she is hanging on to cope with the loss of memory. She repeats a lot now. She says the same information over and over. But I don’t mind, because one day, I may not hear her voice any more. So, I listen to her voice. And hope that I will always remember its tenor, its tonality, its pitch. I hope I will capture her moods and how her voice inflects. I love her. And I hate to imagine life without her. But it is inevitable.

After looking at and reading about your grief, I also know that I will grieve. I will grieve my mother. She has not died, but she is losing her memory and each day I speak to her, it is painfully evident that she is hanging on to cope with the loss of memory. She repeats a lot now. She says the same information over and over. But I don’t mind, because one day, I may not hear her voice any more. So, I listen to her voice. And hope that I will always remember its tenor, its tonality, its pitch. I hope I will capture her moods and how her voice inflects. I love her. And I hate to imagine life without her. But it is inevitable.

After looking at and reading about your grief, I also know that I will grieve. I will grieve my mother. She has not died, but she is losing her memory and each day I speak to her, it is painfully evident that she is hanging on to cope with the loss of memory. She repeats a lot now. She says the same information over and over. But I don’t mind, because one day, I may not hear her voice any more. So, I listen to her voice. And hope that I will always remember its tenor, its tonality, its pitch. I hope I will capture her moods and how her voice inflects. I love her. And I hate to imagine life without her. But it is inevitable.

After looking at and reading about your grief, I also know that I will grieve. I will grieve my mother. She has not died, but she is losing her memory and each day I speak to her, it is painfully evident that she is hanging on to cope with the loss of memory. She repeats a lot now. She says the same information over and over. But I don’t mind, because one day, I may not hear her voice any more. So, I listen to her voice. And hope that I will always remember its tenor, its tonality, its pitch. I hope I will capture her moods and how her voice inflects. I love her. And I hate to imagine life without her. But it is inevitable.

After looking at and reading about your grief, I also know that I will grieve. I will grieve my mother. She has not died, but she is losing her memory and each day I speak to her, it is painfully evident that she is hanging on to cope with the loss of memory. She repeats a lot now. She says the same information over and over. But I don’t mind, because one day, I may not hear her voice any more. So, I listen to her voice. And hope that I will always remember its tenor, its tonality, its pitch. I hope I will capture her moods and how her voice inflects. I love her. And I hate to imagine life without her. But it is inevitable.

I miss you. You goofball of a dog. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there in your last moments. I’ll see you again. I love you.