AD slowly robs us of our loved ones in teeny tiny steps like a thief in the night. Ronald Reagan called it "the long good-bye". What is felt deep down inside my sister's precious heart is different from what she demonstrates on the outside looking in. Her love for me will always be there, and she would show it if she could. Now, however, that love is more often than not ... unrecognizable these days.

Lizzie has been in her group home for one week now. She has been over to our house twice and both times slept over. She was upset and confused about not sleeping in her bed. She couldn't understand that her furniture was at her other house. Except for the hours she spent at the kitchen table folding papers, Lizzie was agitated and argumentative. This was heart breaking for me because I was so excited that she coming home that I was singing, "Lizzie's coming home; Lizzie's coming home!". It just wasn't happy like I had hoped.

Her care giver from the group home brought her over, and my sister told me that "she is taking very good care of me.". It's funny how Lizzie can be so lucid one moment and so out-of-it the next. I was thrilled that she recognized the care she is getting. I did place her in a different home than I wrote about in an earlier post. I was thrilled to find 3 good choices, and I based the final decision on location/accessibility to our home.

I am taking a vacation this week to recharge my batteries so to speak. I'll write more later.