Deven sniffed. She knew she looked a mess. One look in her mother’s hallway mirror confirmed that. Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks streaked with dried tears. And she felt even worse. She and her mother had always been so close, and Deven had taken pride in that relationship. She had never used her mother’s dementia as a crutch for their distance, instead relishing the good times as if they were still a reality. But now, she felt completely betrayed. They never had secrets. Apparently, she was the only one who had honored their mother/daughter bond. Sure, she was angry. But the hurt was feeding on her like a parasite, leaving her weak and exhausted. And it was written all over her face, body, and attitude.

“I’m okay,” Deven lied with a smile that wasn’t very convincing. “Is my mother busy?”

“For you? Never.”

There was a time when Deven believed that. Now she really couldn’t say. “Can you give us a little moment?” she asked. “I’m not taking her out of the room.”

“Of course.” Jan paused, then added, “Deven, if you need anything, I’m here. I know you have your mother, but I think of you like my own.”

Deven nodded her appreciation. Though she really doubted the kind nurse would understand. So, no, she couldn’t discuss this with her. There was a conversation meant solely for Iris. She used those few precious minutes after Jan left to muster her strength. Then she turned and walked into the line of fire.

Even though it was late afternoon, her mother was in bed, burrowed under the covers with scenes from a game show on the TV illuminating her face. Deven paused in the doorway and studied Iris’s profile, noting the trace of merriment playing in her eyes. For a moment, she actually looked like the old Iris. The Iris that wasn’t encumbered by dementia and grief. Deven saw a ghost of the mother she’d known, instead of a shell of the woman she’d become.

A commercial appeared on the thirty-two-inch screen, and Deven entered with a forced smile. Iris turned at the intrusion and her eyes fluttered in surprise. It was clear she hadn’t been tuned into the TV at all, but gazing into some glorious memory in the recesses of her mind. “Oh, Deven. I didn’t see you there.” She remained in the bed but lifted her arms for a hug. “How are you sweetheart? I didn’t know you were coming.”

Deven leaned into allow the embrace, noticing an envelope nearly hidden under the pillow at her mom’s back. “I just came to talk to you,” she said as she sat down on the bed. “You feeling okay?”

Iris smiled. “I’m wonderful, sweetheart.”