From a poem written soon after caregiving by a daughter about time with her mother during her Alzheimer's: Out that door we watched snow fall on pansies in the winter, and sometimes on daffodils and even tulips in the spring. We watched deer prance through the yard, and wild turkeys gobble down the hill. We watched squirrels climbing the clothesline, or coming to visit bird feeders on the window. We watched birds come and go, telling the seasons by their arrival and departure ... Though there might be confusion and terror in the night, out that door we found peace, a refuge from the storm.
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