There are tipping points. Up until the tipping point, the resistance you have as a witness to this disease is amazing. My mom's executive function is pretty much shot; she's an unreliable narrator. That means, among other things, that boundaries that were firm and seemingly permanent, evaporate. Issues of privacy and respect have to be addressed. I am stepping into her space, but I do so by asking permission each step of the way.

I don't know if you've ever heard the bit by Larry David where he tells of attending some party when he was writing for SNL. David is a comic's comic. They were at the bar watching all these idiot men they knew coming in with beautiful women and bemoaning their single state. David finally yells out, "My name is O'Banyon; I need a companion!" I was listening to that with my mom and it broke us up. I said to her, that line would win me over, but I'd yell back, "My name is O'Toole and I think you're a fool!" Anyway, back to the privacy and permission...when I need to get in and help her in ways I haven't had to before, I now say, "I'm O'Banyon, your companion." It makes her laugh.