When my daughter was born, we did not know yet that my mother would soon be sliding down into dementia. Around the time that my daughter lost her speech and the word “AUTISM” became a regular part of the family vocabulary, we began to notice that Mom’s cognitive skills were also in decline. Both responded to music; both had unexplained anxieties; both were thrilled with the small traditions of Christmas, like the singing moose Santa we brought out every year. Near the end of her life, almost any word would summon forth, from the thinnest of remaining memories, a song.
This short piece is a response to a fellow blogger who offered a “Christmas Contest” for memories of mother in 100 words. As I find it difficult to remember my mother with any objectivity, I decided to write my answer and this is it.