Topics | Dementia | The Sun Magazine #2

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Dementia

Poetry

In The Car Ahead

He needs more time to brake / so he drives slow. He needs / more time to read traffic signs / so he drives slow.

By Michael Mark April 2020
Poetry

What Are The Odds

That this trip isn’t the stupidest thing he’ll ever do / That they won’t drive one mile before she asks, Where are we going? three times / That she’ll ask why can’t she drive anymore

By Michael Mark October 2018
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Telling Time

We rent a condominium together, my eighty-six-year-old widowed mother and I. Sometimes she summons me from her bedroom at the end of the hall. I have learned to guess from her tone what it is she wants.

By Philip Kelly November 2017
Poetry

Visiting Her In Queens Is More Enlightening Than A Month In A Monastery In Tibet

For the fourth time my mother / asks, “How many children / do you have?” I’m beginning / to believe my answer, / “Two, Mom,” is wrong.

By Michael Mark March 2017
Fiction

Whatever Day It Is

My tester asks me to take a seat in the waiting room while she reviews my score. She wants to see if I have missed anything. I want to tell her I missed my fifties, skipped that whole section of my life, lived anesthetized for a decade, ten years on autopilot — years you think will continue to replicate themselves, dull and identical, until you die. Then the serious aging starts, and you know your fifties as gold poorly spent.

By Linda McCullough Moore October 2016
Readers Write

At The Last Minute

Self-surrendering to prison, saving a life, wishing to have said “I don’t,” instead of, “I do”

By Our Readers September 2016
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

A Merry Little Christmas

I wonder if my relationship with my mother will improve as her dementia progresses. It would make both our lives simpler. I also wonder how long it will be before I forget what a mango is. Before my home is festooned with post-it notes. Before all my mother’s deficiencies become mine.

By S.J. Miller May 2016
The Sun Interview

The Church Of The Gridiron

Steve Almond On How He Lost His Faith In Football

So, yes, the NFL and NCAA have instituted stiff penalties for helmet-to-helmet hits and even redesigned kickoffs to reduce high-speed collisions. But, again, all of this only helps limit concussions. The problem is that the permanent brain injuries arise in part because of those subconcussive hits, the ones players receive nearly every single play, and there’s no way to engineer those out. The tackle will always be part of the game.

By David Cook September 2015
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Creature Comforts

Taking care of my aging parents is the right thing to do. I don’t regret the decision. But when I came here in 2010, I never imagined that I’d have to stay nearly five years. I’m afraid that, on my mother’s ninety-seventh birthday, I’ll be saying that I never imagined I’d have to stay seven years.

By Gillian Kendall August 2015
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

A Proper Funeral

Here’s a surprise: it turns out you can’t just walk into the assisted-living facility where your mother spent her final years, wrap her dead body in a sheet, and take her out into the woods to bury her.

By Kim Addonizio August 2015