These stories are essentially true. Names have been changed for the privacy of those whose stories these are, and an embellishment or two may creep in to fill gaps in my own memory I did not have a tape recorder. Nonetheless, the events themselves really did take place.

When it was plain to her family that Kathryn's forgetfulness and confusion were just the beginning of a long slide into the shadows and silence of dementia, they began the sad search for a place where she could be cared for.

When her adult children began to talk to her about it, her usually sweet demeanor turned to anger. There was nothing wrong with her, she said, and she was not going to be dragged out of the house she had lived in all those years that her children were growing up and where memories of her Bill were strongest. Her daughters took her from one assisted living facility to the next, some too expensive, some just not good enough.

Worst of all was Kathryn's fear of being abandoned in a strange place. She threw childish tantrums as they turned in the driveway of a "home," with outbursts that subsided only when they took her