A Defining Moment with Dad My father is a gentle and polite person with an impressive career and decorated sporting record. However, he has suffered from a form of early-onset dementia for over a decade. His primary caregiver is my mother, who we believe has been successful in slowing my father's deterioration by keeping him mentally stimulated with a predefined activity each day of the week. Of course, this strategy also benefits my mother, because it gives her peace of mind knowing that my father has a reason to get up every day. Just as importantly, it saves her valuable personal time to do something for herself. But every time deterioration reveals another unexpected problem to confront, my mother's resolve is threatened and she needs to build her a woodshed that would aid her in her ongoing sense of responsibility for cutting and storing wood. firewood. In true blue father and son style, our work together would create a bond that opened up a moment of reflection that I could cherish forever. Well, we sometimes worked together, but Dad's attention and physical skills would waver, and after a few minutes I would find him returning to his deck chair or sitting inside, staring into space. There may have been times when I felt a subtle connection, but I quickly realized that my expectations were unrealistic. Meanwhile, I cooked, cleaned, and answered hundreds of questions like “where is he going?” ”, “will I take out the trash” and “when did you say you were leaving?” “Every day, I watched all the television news channels in succession. I realized that without reminders, the same pair of pants can be worn an infinite number of times, the best clothes can be worn to mow the lawn, and stained clothes can be worn to dinner. I saw my washed t-shirt come back covered in white stains and realized there was no distinction between the box of detergent and the bottle of