As I promised you, I’m not going anywhere. Even though I’m not present on social media, I will be posting links to these writings whenever the moment strikes, whenever I have time, feel like it, or feel the need. Right now, I have a bit of time, so I’m sitting in front of the computer with a face mask on (one has to take care of oneself and stay lovely), a towel on my head (yes, I’ve put a hair mask on too), and my mother is in the living room listening to a musical. I’ve put on The Sound of Music for her; she’s watching it at a distance with disinterest. She used to love musicals, but now she doesn’t react to them. Although yesterday, something happened that I didn’t expect… Lucidity. Let me tell you about it.

I’ve been reading a lot about Alzheimer’s disease, trying to understand what happens in the minds of patients, what they feel or don’t feel, what symptoms they experience, why the disease develops, and how it can be prevented, slowed, or alleviated. (I highly recommend the movie The Father to understand their perspective—it’s fantastic.)

Everyone suggests a cure or an improvement: vitamin D, turmeric (and a thousand other herbs), along with various medications and dozens of other remedies people recommend. I’m not saying we’ve tried everything, but so far, nothing has managed to stop the disease. (I hope that, in the future, instead of spending money fighting each other or on advertising campaigns, dinners, luxurious cars, and houses, politicians will allocate some funds for research.)

Anyway, I always seem to wander off into my own words, as if I’m the one with dementia. Yesterday morning, when I went to wake my mother, she said to me, “Hello, Nuria, it’s so nice to see you; it’s been so long.” She gave me a kiss and a big hug, her eyes shining as she looked at me, speaking clearly, as if she’d been away on a trip and just returned. For weeks, she hadn’t been talking much, smiling, or showing any emotion, but that morning, her emotions were alive, present in the here and now. I was so taken aback that I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how long the lucidity would last or what I should ask her.

We had breakfast together, and I put on one of her favorite musicals. For the first time in a long time, she reacted with emotion to the music. She thanked me for taking care of her, told me I looked beautiful, and said she was very happy to be with me. We laughed together, and before I knew it, she had slipped away again.

I imagine we won’t have many more moments like these, but I will always welcome them and make the most of them.