mourning

mourning

“There’s something wrong with Mother,” I said to my two brothers and my sister. “It’s Alzheimer’s or dementia. She is out of her mind.”

“She just doesn’t talk much any more.”

“She never did answer a question directly.”

“She’s OK. She’s not harming anyone or setting fire to the house.”

These were the answers my two brothers and my sister gave me when I would bring up the topic of dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. No one wanted to think that a family member could be, well, out of her mind.

Every moment of life invites us to open our eyes to what Howard Thurman calls "the growing edge" of life, and aspire to grow with it. As he says, nothing embodies the growing edge better than a newborn — or, I'd say, a very young child.

This week we feel especially privileged to do the work that we do. A brief post by our senior editor about the decision-making behind this week's show and why it matters to us.

Jenny Ward McDonald at Her Family Headstone

Last fall the idea to visit the family graveyard came to mind for the first time in ages. Día de Los Muertos seemed like the perfect excuse to make the journey. I allowed life and distance to keep me away, however, and I never went.