I call it the shakeys. My Dad has it, too. He never bothered naming it or getting diagnosed with it, and I was almost 40 before I stumbled on a magazine ad (in a March issue, of course) which made me say, loudly and out loud, "That's it!" in the waiting room of a doctor's office, the only place I ever read magazines.
Love is supposed to be reciprocal. What happens when our loved one stops showing us the love we have been conditioned to expect, when they meet our gaze with indifference, or when they tell us to go to hell? Dementia is an invitation for us to discover the true meaning of unconditional love, using mindfulness and loving kindness as gateway practices.
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