Well that was an unpleasant dream. Maybe even a nightmare. I dreamed I was on a trip with my mother and her memory just… stopped working. She knew who she was but had no way to keep a train of thought going for more than a few seconds. Dealing with it was scary, stressful, and hard. It was like herding a small child.
She's getting older. And as far as I can tell her mind is still fine. It's actually her body that's starting to fail; when she had heart surgery the enforced bed rest took a lot of muscle tone away, to the point where she has to use a walker just to get around her home, and getting out of the house is increasingly difficult. And her arthritis means trying to exercise and regain that muscle tone is really difficult; she has an exercise bike but can't use it for more than a few minutes, she says. There's going to be a time when she needs to go into a home or something soon, I'm afraid. And she's going to hate that.
Oh, wow, I sure do have a complicated jumble of emotions about this. I think I'm just going to put off digging into them at least until daylight, if not longer.