Depth Perception - 1. Chapter 1

“Who are you?”

My heart was crushed by a vise-like grip, like nothing I’d ever felt. I picked up the old woman’s hand and smiled. “My name is Kenny.”

She smiled back. “I know a Kedley.”

I didn’t bother correcting her. She wouldn’t remember anyway.

“You look pretty today, Peggy.” My words went in one ear and out the other. My mom resumed staring out the window at nothing in particular. On the wide sill sat a little plastic flower in a small box that pendulated back and forth, ticking hypnotically. Its colors were vibrant and bright, starkly contrasting with the darkness that now inhabited Mom’s mind.

I stood and put away the laundry I’d taken home to wash. The clothes I hung were several sizes smaller than she used to wear. Gone were the days of dieting and complaining about the weight she gained after having four kids. She had to be fed these days, forgetting how to do the task herself.

A soft knock on the door jamb door caught my attention. Clarissa, the evening nurse’s aide, grinned. “Hello, Ken. How are you tonight?”

“Good. Mom seems the same.”

“Aye. She’s responded well to the change in her medication. Once they lowered her dose of Galantamine, she stopped exploding in the toilet every day.” Clarissa's Irish accent was subtle, still clinging, despite leaving the Emerald Isle over twenty-five years ago.

I grimaced at the image. “I’m sure you guys were happy.”

“It happened mostly on the day shift, but yeah, it makes our job a lot easier. Where’s Visa?”

“Jordy had to take him to the groomer for an emergency appointment. The idiot mutt got sprayed by a skunk.”

Clarissa waved her hand in front of her nose. “Oh damn. That’s not good. Poor dog!”

I chuckled. “Poor dog, my ass. Poor Jordy is more like it. My husband wasn’t thrilled to have to manhandle him into the crate. I let him take the truck so his car wouldn’t reek. Better to listen to him howling from the truck bed than stinking up the cab.”

“I don’t envy the man.” Clarissa walked over to Mom. “Peggy, it’s time for some pills.”

Cloudy hazel-green eyes looked at the nurse’s aide. The vacant hollowness was hard to watch. It took Clarissa three tries before she coaxed open Mom’s mouth and poked the small pill inside. At least Mom swallowed when a glass of cool water was held to her lips. Increasingly, the nurses had to crush the medication and mix it with applesauce to get her to take it. Even that wouldn't be an option at some point in the not-too-distant future.

I stopped Clarissa before she left the room. “Could you check and make sure they haven’t rescheduled Mom’s team meeting this Tuesday?”

Once a month, the nursing facility schedules a team meeting for each resident. They tried to keep it consistent for the families involved in their loved one’s care. Occasionally, scheduling conflicts weren’t caught until the last minute. I found it crucial to have Jordy there for moral support. My brother and sister-in-law usually attended, and even though we shared medical power of attorney, my sibling, Jim, felt his opinions were more important. His wife Kim was just a bitch.

Clarissa patted my cheek as she went past me. “Sure thing, doll.”

Mom still sat staring out the window. A wave of wistfulness washed over me, thinking of everything I wished I could talk to her about. I told her anyway, even though my voice was probably just white noise in her mind. I talked about my day at work and Visa getting sprayed by a skunk in the backyard. I rambled on about how much Jordy meant to me and our bucket list of places we wanted to see.

Soon, it was dinnertime. I crouched in front of Mom, drawing her attention to me.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Kenny. Would you like to get something to eat?”

Child-like, she giggled. “Oh yes! Will there be pie?”

“Let’s go see.” I stood and gently pushed her chair so it faced me. I took her hands and placed them on the arms of the chair so she could push herself up. Automatically, I grasped the gait belt at the small of her back to help steady her as she raised herself on shaky legs. When she stood firm, I let go and pulled her walker in front of her. She held on but refused to move.

“Where’s my pocketbook?” She pronounced it pock-a-book.

I sighed. That damn thing had been the source of some serious scuffles between her and the staff when she first arrived. It wasn’t uncommon for someone with dementia to become fixated on a particular item. The black leather purse was Mom’s security blanket. In those early days, she obsessively checked to ensure every item was where it belonged. Not finding things would throw her into a rage.

For security, before arriving, I removed everything of value. Today, her wallet was stuffed with Monopoly money, but only the green twenties. Pennies inhabited the coin purse. When Dad was alive, he made sure she had two hundred dollars every week for groceries and incidentals. The ID and credit cards were the fake things that came with new wallets. Dollar store reading glasses, an old daily planner calendar, blue plastic rosary beads, and a package of tissues rounded out the items she kept track of.

I hooked the bag onto her walker, guided her to the hallway, and pointed out where to go. I stayed half a step ahead, taking each one painstakingly slowly. Wanda, the wanderer, passed us, her hands clasped behind her back as she grinned and said, “God bless America.” It was her catchphrase that she said to everyone she crossed paths with. Considering she walked up and down the halls most of the day, she probably said it a few hundred times.

When we got to the dining room, I got Mom settled and kissed her papery cheek, whispering, “Goodnight, Mom. I love you.” Silence was the only reply I got. I turned and walked away with a heavy heart. Typically, I would stay, but I still had errands to run, and I wanted to call Jordy and see how things were going with Visa.

Clarissa assured me the meeting was still on, and I thanked her for everything she did. The facility had several wonderful nurses and aides, but she was my favorite.

Once in my car, I called Jordy. In the background, I could hear a distinctive howl. “Hello, my love. How is it going with our stinky pup?

“I’m gonna kill him.”

I snorted. The man loved that dog more than he loved me most days. “I doubt that.”

“Can you hear him? Listen!”

More mournful baying could be heard loud and clear. Visa was a beagle-basset-poodle mix who didn’t bark. He howled or bayed—quite loudly, I might add.

“He’s an embarrassment.” Jordy lowered his voice to a whisper. “A dog mom is sitting across from me, looking like she just bit a lemon. She’s judging. I know she is.”

I bit my lip as I held back a laugh. “How much longer do you think it will be?”

Jordy sighed dramatically. “Mmm, maybe another hour? Jo-Jo said he needed to let some kind of odor neutralizer sit for forty-five minutes and then shampoo him again and blow dry. That was about a half hour ago.”

“Okay. I’m just leaving the nursing home and plan on having supper ready around seven. Let me know if you’ll be later than that.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I ended the call and plugged the phone into the charger. It was down to eight percent. I buckled up and headed out. Before going home, I needed to stop at the pharmacy for a prescription and the grocery store for a few items.

Luckily, only one car was ahead of me at the pharmacy’s drive-thru. I was out of there in less than ten minutes. The grocery store wasn’t crowded either. A fucking miracle for a change. I made it home with plenty of time to get dinner going and not have to rush. Once in the kitchen, I removed some chicken and salad fixings from the fridge. I grabbed some dry rice from the cupboard and a container of roasted veggies from the freezer, which was left over from the last batch we prepped.

I instructed Alexa to play Holst’s Planets playlist, and a sense of calm washed over me as the first notes of the London Symphony Orchestra drifted through the speakers. The robust brass instruments belted out Jupiter as I pounded the boneless chicken breasts into submission. I rubbed some dry seasoning on them and set them aside while I programmed the Instapot for the rice. I popped the frozen veggies into the microwave and went back to the chicken.

Before long, the kitchen smelled amazing, and all I needed was my husband. Shortly after the garage door rumble alerted me to their arrival, I got my wish. Within minutes, a nice, clean brown and white mutt with floppy ears and a wagging tail trotted in, his nose high in the air, searching for the source of the tantalizing smells.

My husband was close behind, a faint stench of skunk clinging to him from manhandling Visa earlier. He came over to hug me, but I raised my hand. “Nope! You need a shower. You stink.”

Jordy leaned in and gave me a quick peck. “Spoilsport. Dinner smells amazing. Gimme ten minutes. I’ll be right back.”

I laughed when he turned around and nearly tripped over Visa, who, as usual, lived up to her name. Like the old commercial, he was everywhere you wanted to be.

While Jordy showered, I set the table and gave the veggies another minute in the microwave. Strong arms wrapped around me from behind as I finished plating the food, and a cloud of bergamot and cinnamon enveloped me. I loved the body wash he used. Even in his mid-fifties, he was handsome. There were more gray hairs than the jet-black of his youth, but it only made him more appealing to me. Turning, I kissed him properly.

“Mmm,” he hummed. Jordy grabbed the plates and set one in my place as I poured each of us a glass of wine. “How was your mom today?

“Pretty much the same. Clarissa said she’s been doing a little better on the new medication.”

“Is the monthly meeting still on Tuesday?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Jim is going to push for moving her to hospice?”

“Probably. I don’t think she’s quite there yet. She can still swallow even though she can’t feed herself. Her weight has been steady, and she’ll drink from a straw if you hold it to her lips. Even though she doesn’t talk much, everyone can usually understand her. She asked for her pocketbook before I took her to the dining room.”

Jordy chuckled. “Yeah, I think that’s going to be the stick to measure by when it’s time to move her to hospice. The day she stops caring about that damn thing will be when you need to have a serious discussion with her care team.”

“I think you’re right.”

We enjoyed our dinner, catching each other up on the day's events. This was the best part of the day, enjoying each other’s company and winding down. I cleared and wiped the table while Jordy loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the counter. Afterward, we settled on the couch to snuggle and watch a movie.

Later that night, after a very satisfying round of much-needed lovemaking, I curled up in my husband’s embrace. I don’t know why, but an overwhelming sadness and something else washed over me. It wasn’t until Jordy brushed my hair back and wiped under my eye with his thumb that I realized I was crying.

“What’s wrong, love?”

I started to sob, and he clutched me to his chest, letting me get it out of my system. When I finally calmed down, Jordy stroked his hands over my back. The circular motion and warmth soothed me.

“I’m losing my mom.” My voice cracked as the words tumbled out.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know it’s hard, and I’m so sorry.”

“I hate seeing her like she is. It’s like there’s nothing there anymore. It’s all hidden in the depths of her mind, buried too deep to ever see the light of day. I miss her so much!”

“I know. I miss her too. She treated me like one of her kids from the first day you brought me home. Remember?”

I nodded. I fell in love with Jordy in college. Within a week, I knew he was the man I would spend the rest of my life with. Mom was as excited for me as she was with my siblings when they fell in love. She never admitted to having favorites, but more than once, I caught her saving the biggest piece of lemon meringue pie for Jordy. It was his favorite. The only other person she did something like that for was Dad.

“Why is life so unfair? First, we lost Dad to the big fucking C, and now we’re losing Mom one piece at a time as dementia consumes her mind. Her mom lived to ninety-five and was as sharp as a knife until the end.”

“I don’t know why things happen the way they do. I know that her family was the most important thing to your mom. Her heart was bigger than her mind. She still loves you even if she can’t express it anymore. That’s one thing that will never change.”

More tears slipped down my cheeks. The dampness followed me into my dreams as I drifted off to sleep.

***

Tuesday was a shitshow, to say the least. Jim and Kim hadn’t even bothered to check in on Mom and stormed out of the meeting. Jordy and I stayed through lunch, taking over feeding her to give the staff a little break. As usual, her conversation was either nonsensical or downright nonexistent.

In the car, I slammed my fist against the dashboard, finally releasing the rage I’d held in ever since the meeting. Jim had pushed for hospice again, even though her primary care doctor said she wouldn’t qualify yet. Kim, the bitch-faced cunt, boldly threatened to find a lawyer who would give Jim and her sole power of attorney and guardianship.

That had been the last straw. I leaned across the table, shoved my finger in her face, and yelled, “Over my fucking dead body, you bitch!” Jordy had to physically restrain me. Jim started yelling and threatening me.

My asshole brother and his equally asshole wife felt entitled to make all decisions regarding Mom’s care because she had lived with them after Dad died. Kim was the type of person to sing her own praises about how wonderful a person she was for taking ‘such good care’ of Mom. Such care consisted of parking Mom in a recliner in front of the TV all day with no other mental stimulation. It was no wonder the woman declined rapidly in the four years she was in their care—a fact I didn’t hesitate to throw at them either.

After my father passed away, my siblings and I got together to figure out where Mom should live. Back then, she wasn’t too bad. She still recognized us and could function with minimal supervision. However, her forgetfulness was enough that she couldn’t be trusted not to burn down the house by leaving the stove on.

Dad knew he would go before Mom and tried to make us kids promise we wouldn’t put his wife in a nursing home. Kim asserted that she would never let that happen. In fact, she was the one who insisted Mom live with her and Jim. Annie and I had a conversation with Dad and laid everything out. In the end, he understood that we might not have a choice. Mom’s safety had to come first. If it came down to that, we promised to find the best facility and diligently monitor her care, which we’ve done. After Dad died and Mom’s mental faculties declined, the decision to have her live with Jim and the bitch even though the rest of us knew it wasn’t the best place, in reality, it was the only choice.

I would have preferred to have Mom live with me and Jordy, but at the time, Jordy’s job as a regional VP of operations for a medical supply chain meant he was on the road for up to two weeks each month. My job as a risk assessment consultant required frequent last-minute travel. Even though it was only a few days each month, I never had more than a day’s notice before needing to leave for two or three days. The rest of the time, I worked from home and was on the phone constantly, so I couldn’t properly supervise Mom.

Nowadays, Jordy doesn’t have to travel as often. Currently, his position allows him more flexibility, and he works a hybrid schedule where he stays home and gets everything done remotely while only going into the office when they schedule client meetings. I still get called away occasionally, but only for VIP clients, which has greatly reduced my road trips.

Our youngest brother, Greg, wasn’t in a position to care for Mom either. He was in the midst of a busy medical career, and Annie was a stay-at-home mom with three young kids. Plus, she and her husband were licensed foster parents and never knew when they would have additional young ones to care for. Mom didn’t do well with the controlled chaos that ruled that household.

“I need to call Annie.”

Jordy squeezed my thigh and then started the car. I pulled up my contacts and tapped ‘Annie Bananie’.

My sister picked up on the second ring. A high-pitched, happy squeal in the background greeted my ears. “If you’re calling me on a Tuesday, it can’t be good.”

Leave it to Annie to cut straight to the chase. If anyone had told me ten years ago that I’d be relying on my sister to keep me sane when it came to dealing with my family, I would have said they were crazy. Growing up, she was a typical, spoiled Daddy’s girl. She was a wild child in high school and college, getting away with stuff that we boys had gotten our asses whipped over. It wasn’t until she got married and had her first kid that she finally settled down. Now, she was the most level-headed of all of us.

“Your eldest brother and his ball and chain are idiotic assholes.”

Annie laughed. “You’re just figuring that out now? What happened.”

I sighed and put the call on speaker. “Jordy’s with me, and we just left the nursing home.”

“Aww, hiya hot stuff! When are you going to dump my brother and come take a walk on the wild side?”

Used to her teasing, Jordy gave his standard reply. “When you grow a dick and lose the boobs, baby girl.”

I huffed and snapped my fingers. “Hey, focus. There is a more important topic here.” I gave her a quick run-down of what happened. “So, what are we going to do about Jimbo and Kimbo?”

Annie scoffed. “Nothing. Those two are nothing more than hot air. As soon as Jimmy-boy finds out how much lawyers are, he’ll slam his wallet shut faster than Kimmie slams her legs shut when she cuts him off.”

Jordy choked off a laugh.

I had to smile. Annie was blunt, but she was right. Already, I felt my blood pressure receding. “I wish he’d leave that bitch. He used to be our fun brother, but now he lives to bitch and complain. He’s not happy unless he’s griping about something.”

Annie scoffed. “I one hundred percent blame that witch he married. I hated her from day one. I’m glad I kicked her shin.”

I chuckled at the memory. There was a fourteen-year age gap between Jim and Annie. She was only six when her big brother started dating his future wife. Up until that day, the little girl idolized her eldest sibling. The first time he brought Kim home, the spunky first-grader sized up her competition and promptly walloped her in the shin while wearing her new hiking boots with steel toes. Everyone but Jim and Kim cherished the memory.

“Too bad she didn’t take the hint.” I fiddled with change in the center console.

“Hey, why don’t you guys come over this Saturday? We can make it a barbeque and bitch session. I’ll see if Greg can make it. Don’t worry, I’ll conveniently forget to invite our eldest brother. We haven’t had a family pow-wow in a while.”

I glanced at Jordy, and he grinned. He was a sucker for Annie’s wings. Whatever the hell she put on them tasted fantastic when they were grilled.

“We’ll be there.”

“Make it two o’clock and bring your suits. Don’t forget the booze, either.”

“Ok, we’ll see you then—and thanks, Annie-bananie. I love you.”

“Love you too, Ken-doll.”

***

Saturday rolled around hot and humid. Thankfully, Annie’s pool was enclosed in a screened-in cage, and a recessed alcove off the family room provided plenty of shade. Annie’s husband, Justin, greeted us and smiled when he saw the case of beer and a cardboard box with Crown Royal, spiced Captain Morgan, and Coke nestled securely inside.

Two high-pitched squeals could be heard through the closed sliding glass doors leading to the pool. In addition to Annie’s three hellions, she and Justin currently had a brother and sister foster pair. A few neighborhood friends had joined the fray from the sound of things. Visa made a beeline for the kids outside. Annie’s backyard was huge and fenced in. I didn’t worry about the dog wandering off.

Jordy immediately went for the ice while I broke the seal on the Crown bottle. Within minutes, all three men had a generous serving of Crown and Coke in their hands. It would take at least two before I dared to venture outside into the chaos.

Annie chastised us when she stepped inside to refresh her own drink. Her best friend, who happened to be her next-door neighbor, was watching the kids.

“Stop being pussies and get outside. The kids have been waiting for their favorite uncles to get here.”

“You can tell them the wait is over,” declared Greg, our other brother, as he entered the kitchen. We greeted him with hugs and slaps on the back. As an emergency room Chief of Staff, he didn’t get much free time, so it was good to see him. He looked tired but otherwise seemed happy.

They moved the party outside, and true to form, the kids attacked their uncles as soon as they saw us. It wasn’t long before most of the adults joined the kids in the inground pool. Greg turned into a thirteen-year-old, cannonballing off the diving board and splashing everything he could.

Two hours later, everyone was waterlogged and ready for food. Justin fired up the grill, and Jordy and I helped Annie bring stuff to the big glass-top table, including a massive pan of wings she had cooked earlier in the day. Soon, mouth-watering burgers and hot dogs joined the chicken, chips, and a huge bowl of fruit salad.

The kids sat at a smaller, child-friendly plastic picnic table and plowed their way through almost as much food as the adults. Outdoor fun and sun tended to do that.

Annie made the kids wait before they got back in the pool. Even though the whole ‘you have to wait an hour after eating before getting in the pool’ myth had been debunked, she found that waiting decreased the chances of one of the kids puking because they had overstuffed themselves.

While the kiddos chilled inside playing video games, Annie’s friend, Beth, told everyone to sit and relax while she cleaned up. She and Annie had been friends since grammar school and was a part of their family. She knew how infrequently they were able to get together.

Annie took a long swig from her long-neck beer and smacked her lips. “So, what should we do about Jimmy and his troll?”

Justin ducked his head to hide his grin. There was no love lost between him and his brother-in-law. Jim had always treated Annie like she was still ten years old and incapable of making adult decisions. Justin had told him off on more than one occasion.

I snickered. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do. They don’t have a relationship. I think it’s more like an arrangementship. She arranges everything in their lives, and he pays for it.”

Annie snorted. “That sounds right!”

We spent the next hour making fun of our eldest brother and his wife while knocking back a few more drinks. I was just buzzed enough that I noped out of going back in the pool when the kids came traipsing back out, wanting to swim some more. Justin, Greg, and Jordy pulled the short straws and got stuck with pool duty. Beth brought out a tray of watermelon, and we gnoshed on that while we watched the pool antics.

Beyond the cage, the sun turned on a spectacular show and set in a riot of reds and oranges before fading into pink, purple, and indigo. Once the sun went down, the air cooled quickly. It was a bunch of tired kiddos and adults that drip-dried in front of the fire pit, holding marshmallows on long skewers.

It had been a while since I felt so relaxed. Once the kids were de-stickified from the s’mores, Beth herded Annie’s crew off to bed while Justin and Jordy escorted the neighbor kids home. When they returned, the adults convened around the dwindling embers of the fire pit. I claimed the double recliner, and Jordy snuggled next to me. Visa passed out in front of us.

Annie giggled. “Remember when Mom and Dad went to Hawaii and left Jimmy in charge? He was a shit guardian. He paid you to watch me and Greg while he went camping with the bitch.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Then I paid you hush money so I could go hang out with Jordy by the tracks and smoke weed.”

“I was a fucking rich kid from bribing the two of you all the time. Jim used to pay me hush money to keep my mouth shut and not tattle when he used Dad's truck when they weren't home. I think Dad knew, though. Hell, even Mom probably knew.”

Greg laughed. “I don’t think she wanted to believe any of her kids were anything other than perfect little angels. She believed me when I told her Owen Patterson was the one who hid the Playboys in the acoustic tiles in the cellar so he wouldn’t get in trouble at home.”

I smirked. “Mom wasn’t that gullible. She knew about that hiding place when she found the dirty magazines me and Jim hid up there.”

Greg threw one of the kid’s water shoes at me. “Then why did you tell me it was the perfect hiding spot?”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Because they wanted to embarrass you, doofus.”

As the embers died down in the fire pit, the siblings shared more memories of their mom and dad. It felt good to remember them how they were, full of life and vitality. Toward the end of his life, their dad’s cancer had taken a huge toll and left the man a mere husk of the strapping man he once was. Now, dementia had stolen their mom from them several years prior, leaving only an empty shell behind. Letting the good recollections take the front seat was cathartic for the brothers and their sister. It was a shame Jim had become such a stick in the mud.

By midnight, the fire was merely a few glowing coals, and the air was cool enough to be bordering on chilly. Reluctantly, the group gathered their things while Justin thoroughly doused the fire pit to ensure nothing remained of the glowing wood.

There were tears in Annie’s eyes as she hugged us. These impromptu get-togethers were getting harder to coordinate, but I resolved to make more time for my siblings in the future. Mom was once the glue that held us firmly in place. We shouldn’t lose that connection just because she could no longer do it.

Visa groaned at being forced to relocate to the car but quickly started snoring before Jordy and I buckled our seatbelts.

I sighed.

“What’s wrong, love?”

I reached over and cupped my husband’s cheek. “I’m just feeling nostalgic. We have so many wonderful family memories. It’s a shame things are so different.”

Jordy took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I know it’s hard, but it’s part of adulting. Be happy you have the memories that you do. You’ll need them when things start really going downhill.

I leaned over and kissed my wise husband, not realizing how prophetic his words would be.

******

One year later

“We ah garthered today to honah our dear brover, Peggy.”

I kept my eyes firmly affixed on the ground in front of me. The priest Kim had gotten for Mom’s interment was Asian, probably Chinese, and his accent was thick. Calling Mom ‘brother’ wasn’t the first gaff he’d committed. It was taking everything I had in me not to laugh.

Despite having never met the woman, the priest continued to extol Mom’s virtues based on the information Kim had given him, painting them as saints for having taken care of her. I dared not look at anyone, especially my siblings or husband. If I did, there would be no containing the laughter. Even though the service was bordering on being a complete comedy show, I know Mom would’ve loved it, and I could hear her voice announce one of her beloved mom-isms, "More fun than normal people!"

When the priest asked if anyone would like to say a few words, Jordy squeezed my hand. I stood and walked to the small podium in the VA cemetery’s chapel, then reached into my pocket, pulled out a sheet of paper, and unfolded it. Pulling my cheaters from my other pocket, I perched them on the end of my nose and cleared my throat. A brief glance at the audience showed many eyes focused on me.

“In nineteen-forty, a baby girl was born. She instantly became a daughter, granddaughter, little sister, niece, and cousin. A few years later, she added big sister to her titles. As she grew, she became a neighbor, a classmate, and a best friend. In nineteen-fifty-seven and nineteen-sixty-one, she was awarded the privilege of being a high school and college graduate, respectively. She earned the right to be called a teacher.

“Nineteen-sixty-two heralded the beginning of a new chapter when she met the love of her life and married him two years later, taking on the role of wife. In nineteen-sixty-six and sixty-eight, she fulfilled her dream title of Mom. During these same years, Auntie and Godmother hitched themselves to the title wagon. There was a gap period when she thought her family was complete. Life had other plans when another baby arrived by surprise in nineteen-eighty and lastly, a late-life baby in nineteen eighty-five.”

I looked up and saw many eyes glistening with tears, some flowing freely down somber cheeks. My own blurred, and I blinked to clear them.

“Over the next thirty years, the title of mother-in-law and, most importantly, Grandma was bestowed upon her several times. It was a badge she wore proudly. On June nineteenth, two-thousand-sixteen, sadly, she acquired the title of widow when her beloved husband and our dad passed away. It was the beginning of the end.

“Try as we might, confusion and bewilderment encroached as her mind became enshrouded with dementia. The monster struck silently, and Peggy gained one last title—patient.”

I sniffed as my emotions threatened to get the better of me. Mom deserved better. I swiped my nose across my sleeve and heard her voice echo in my head; use a tissue, you Neanderthal!

“No matter what title you knew her by, she loved you all. This was who she was—a generous woman who cherished her friends and family. Though her mind was cruelly stolen, we can rest easy knowing that she no longer is chained to the ravages that pulled her in too deep within herself.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath before opening them again. “Depth perception is the ability to see objects in three dimensions, including their size and how far away they are from you. Mom’s depth perception included the ability to see love and, in turn, give freely of herself. Her heart was bigger than she was. I am forever grateful for having her as my mom.’

I tipped my head back and looked to the sky. “I love you, Mom, and will miss you forever.”