A few months ago, I was in attendance at Marjorie's great-grandson funeral. Being diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease her daughter, my aunt, had asked me to sit with Marjorie away from the crowd. She had also asked that I let her remain innocence because the previous day when she had figured out what was going on, and it was too much for her. I sat with her on this occasion, and held her cold hands, warming them up one at a time. Most times when we met she would ask who I was, but this time it was different. She looked at me and asked me about the woman who had died. Of course, being asked to keep her in the dark. I had to be careful with my responses. "She was young wasn't she?" "Who?" "The woman who died." "Yes, she was." "That is so sad." "Yes." "Did she have family?" "Yes, she did." "Oh, how sad." Trying to keep back the tears, I could add no more. In the following minut...