From my birth until I was old enough to stay home alone, my grandmother babysat my younger sister and me when our parents were at work, and we lovingly called her our Nana. Nana was an excellent babysitter given her experience as an elementary school teacher for most of her life. I always thought she had the mind of a child; she knew how to think like us and knew how to play games with us. She would always let me and my sister win; often resulting in a fight between us. Eventually we got too old to be babysat anymore and these childhood events turned into memories that I still cherish today. But Nana doesn’t have these same memories. She doesn’t even know who my sister or I am. For she has Alzheimer’s Disease. Continue reading