Sunday Dinner

I wish I had better skills when it comes to portraits as I don't know that I've really done my MIL justice here. But I do love the twinkle in her eye and that mischievous grin that precedes a wise-crack.  She won't remember a moment of this day, but we will remember and we'll hold the time close to our hearts.  

What MIL does remember is the tradition of Sunday dinner - there is a familiarity to it that brings comfort.  And that Hubs made meatballs and pasta made it feel even more familiar to her.  Of course, I got most of the credit from MIL for the meal, even though Hubs did every bit of the work. Hey, who am I to disabuse a woman of her beliefs??   Sunday dinner, in the Italian house, is taken mid-day rather than in the evening.  Tonight, before we take her back to the care facility, we'll have a light supper/tea of salad.

Dementia/Alzheimers is possibly the cruelest of diseases and although I don't hold much hope that a cure will be found in my lifetime, I hope that future generations won't have to bear witness to the slow robbery of the very memories that define us.  My heart goes out to everyone who has a loved one going down this long, horrible road.

I've put two other photos in Extra.  One of Hubs and his mother and the other of MIL clowning around for me.

Thank you for stopping by...

xo
Debbi