The Cut - Losing My Dad, Little by Little

My father is convinced that my mom, his best friend and wife of 56 years, isn’t who she says she is. She’s a woman impersonating her, a man in a female suit, or a robotic dupe. “That’s not Rima,” he whispers sometimes when she walks by. “Who is that woman?”

“It’s Mom,” I tell him. “It’s Rima, your wife.”

“No,” he says and laughs a little like I’m pulling his leg. “You can’t tell me that’s her.”

It’s been like this since early September. He’s at the beginning of a battle with dementia and is progressively losing his ability to understand his surroundings, let alone the nuances of an increasingly complicated world. His mental decline was a crushing swiftness that left us, his family, stunned and then scrambling for resources. (I’ve since learned that a cliff-drop into the disease isn’t uncommon.) In early July, he was a little muddled, his conversations punctuated with self-aware asides such as, “I’m sorry. I just can’t find the words.” But by August, he was saying things like, “I want to love you, but I can’t because I know you’re not who you say you are.”

Starting off with good family-planning news: Hopefully, in five years, no New York City parent will have to pay for child care. Then the terrible: At least two children who were victims of incest have been denied abortions in Florida since the state instituted its 15-week ban three months ago. Rather than pursue achievement in the hope that it will make you happy, pursue happiness itself. The latest maneuver in the streaming battles: A new ad-supported Netflix subscription tier. Where did all the average-looking actors go? Ahead of the holiday season, a reminder that gift-giving is an art. Tired: emoji. Wired: floriography. Alex Jones owes families of Sandy Hook victims nearly $1 billion, but that doesn’t mean they’ll actually see that money. And to end, have a (squeaky) laugh.

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