A Long, Lonely Journey: Loving a Spouse Who is Living with Dementia

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood . . .” Frost’s The Road Not Taken was a grade school standard when I was a child, and I’m surprised tha...

As my great decluttering effort continues I am still finding scraps of paper with notes from Doug - often something as ordinary as a shoppin...

August 4th, 2012 Eleven years ago Doug was full of energy, exceptionally happy . . . and so was I.  This photograph is full of stories about...

There are questions I wish I’d asked my grandparents while they were still alive. There are questions I wish I’d asked Dad. I have recently ...

On March 11th, 2020, Doug and I shared a treat together at his care home. I don't have a photograph to jog my memory, and have no recoll...

For as long as possible I held on to the hope that somewhere deep inside some part of Doug recognised something about me. The sound of my vo...

“At the going down of the sun and in the morning/ We will remember them.” October sunrise I often open my classes by reading, or asking a st...