110 The Meadow She thinks, we can beat this. She thinks, craziness can be conquered. She thinks, Best. Daughter. Ever. On the next visit, she goes with opened eyes. Sure the cafeteria sparkles, the help is courteous, and the entertainment nonstop. But now she notices the quiet footsteps up and down the hallways, the women of varying ethnicities wearing orthopedic shoes. Some are guiding wheelchairs while others carry trays of food. Even though the Green Briar Home for the Aged costs a small fortune, it’s the aides who make the world spin. She immediately hires round-the-clock help for her mother. If she can’t visit Fran every day, she makes sure that a friend or a relative does. Then she spends an entire afternoon pushing a cart up and the down the aisles of an educational toy store. She buys flashcards. Puzzles. Picture books. Her efforts are more than determined. They’re inspired. She imagines the two of them on magazine covers. AARP. Reader’s Digest. Her mother will become the poster child for Alzheimer’s, that one-in-amillion success story. The headline will read: If We Outsmarted Dementia, You Can, Too! But fantasy and reality refuse to intersect. Week after week, she drills her mother only to leave both of them in tears. The routine is the always the same. First Lisa holds up a postcard of South Florida. “We live in the city of....” Fran’s first guess never wavers. “Brooklyn!” she shouts. Then tugging the string, Fran grabs the tail of the kite, rattling off everything she can remember. “Our house is on Flatbush Avenue. Our number’s Nightingale 7-5544. We see movies at the Paramount and watch baseball at Ebbett’s Field. Then there’s Adelman’s Deli. Don’t you love Adelman’s?” Laughing, like it’s a game. But Lisa remains undeterred. Instead, she sets her jaw and moves onto the next exercise. A daily newspaper is laid on the table. “You see the date, Mom? Yesterday was Monday and
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