Kate and Breakfast

I’ve lost count of the number of times Kate has had breakfast since we have been sheltered, but it happened again yesterday morning and was especially surprising because of how early she got up.

I got up around 6:30 and went to the bathroom. When I left to get dressed, I noticed that Kate wasn’t in the bed. I called to her and asked where she was. I heard her say, “I’m in here.” She was in the kitchen. As best I could determine, she had been looking for the bathroom. That’s where I took her. She was confused but not disturbed in the way I might have expected.

After finishing in the bathroom, she seemed unusually wide awake. I asked if she wanted to go back to bed or get dressed and eat breakfast. She said, “I don’t know.” I suggested she go ahead and get ready for the day. I think I was motivated by the fact that the past two days, I thought she was going to stay in bed most of the day. Fortunately, I was able to coax her to get up both days. The surprising thing the second day was how quickly her mood changed when she finally decided to get up. At first, she seemed rather resistant. Then I said something (don’t remember what) that got her attention, and she was ready to get up.

She was far more willing to follow my suggestion yesterday. As it turned out, this was a morning when we really did eat breakfast together. The other mornings, I had finished my breakfast and just enjoyed my coffee while she ate. When she finished, I took her into the family room where she wanted to rest. That worked for me because it gave me time to take my morning walk.

The next surprise was her wanting to go home after resting. It was over an hour before I planned to have lunch, so I thought that might make for a restful outing, and off we went. We were back home in just over thirty minutes, and she wanted to rest again. I welcomed that because I purchased a new computer, and that gave me time to setup a few remaining things on it.

This morning I had finished breakfast and my walk. A short time later as I was preparing to upload this post, I heard her say, “Hey, what do I do?” I went to her and found she was wide awake. I got her up and dressed and fixed her breakfast again. When she finished, I suggested we go to the family room. I mentioned Anne Frank’s Diary and asked if she would be interested in my reading some of it to her. It has been a long time since we had done this, so I started at the beginning. We didn’t get too far before she was tired although she seemed interested in the book. She has been resting about thirty minutes and appears to be asleep.

I always try to figure out what causes changes like the increased frequency of getting up so early. I am often left with only speculation. That seems to be the case this time. I do know, however, that it coincides with sheltering. That has affected her sleeping and resting. Some days she rests more than others. One possibility is that she wakes up earlier following a day when she has had more than enough sleep; however, she is ready to rest not too long after getting up. Of course, that is true no matter what time she gets up. One exception was this past Friday when she was awake the entire time the sitter was here. Saturday and Sunday she didn’t get up until around noon when I waked her, and she wasn’t eager to get up then.

There is another explanation that may be related to her sleep pattern. It seems to me that she drifts in and out of sleep more frequently than in the past. That has also been true during the night in the past week or so. I’ll continue to observe as carefully as I can. It will be interesting to see what, if any, other changes occur when (if?) we start to eat out for lunch and dinner again.

Alzheimer’s Took Kate On a Wild Ride Yesterday.

It’s been a couple of years since Kate started to forget my name, but I have taken satisfaction that, with rare exceptions, she always recognizes me as someone familiar that she likes and trusts. Yesterday morning didn’t appear to begin that way, but it was soon clear she didn’t know who I was and was very suspicious of me. Perhaps, “suspicious” is the wrong word. She didn’t say much, but the look on her face was a little more like anger. Unlike other occasions, I had a difficult time putting her at ease.

Once again, she awoke earlier than usual. When I walked into the bedroom, she was wide awake and greeted me enthusiastically. Her greeting, however, was a little more like I was a good friend she hadn’t seen in a long time. We chatted a few minutes. Then I brought her bear to her. We talked a little more before I asked if she wanted to get up. She said she wanted to rest a little while longer. I told her it was early, and that would be fine. I asked if she would like me to bring my laptop to the bedroom and sit in my chair beside the bed. She did.

An hour later, she woke up. This time she didn’t express any enthusiasm. She didn’t know anything and was scared. I told her I knew a lot about her and her family and would be glad to answer any questions she might have. She didn’t know what to ask or what to do. I suggested that she get up, and I would fix her breakfast. She liked the idea of getting breakfast but not getting up. I spoke to her very calmly and encouraged her to get up, but that didn’t work. Finally, I said, “You’ve felt this way before, and you seemed to feel better once you were up and dressed.” She was skeptical but agreed to try it. She got out of bed, and we walked to the bathroom. I thought she was all right.

She didn’t say much in the bathroom except to ask my name several times and was not as warm and friendly as she can be. Getting dressed was a simple matter. She enjoyed her breakfast but was rather quiet. We had another hour and a half before lunch, so I suggested we read The Velveteen Rabbit. She wasn’t eager but consented. Before I started, she wanted to rest. I thought about her bear and wondered if that might lift her spirits. She acted like she had never seen it and didn’t care about it.

I let her rest until it was time for me to order lunch. I had no trouble getting her up, but her mood had not changed. On the way to pick up lunch, I turned on some music that she likes. When she heard “Shall We Dance” from The King and I, I noticed the first flicker of a change. On the way home, I played more.

When we returned home, I played the same album and didn’t talk much. Neither did she. She enjoyed the music. During one of the songs, she reached her hand out to me. I took it. She put her other hand over mine, and we sang together. She was back to normal.

It wasn’t long before the sitter arrived. As I have been doing during this period of sheltering, I took a walk. It took me a few minutes to get ready. During that time, I noticed that Kate was talking with Mary. It was at least ten minutes before I left, and they were still talking. I make a point of this because their conversations are usually brief and periodic. Kate rests most of the time the sitter is here. I was encouraged by Kate’s mood and that the two of them were engaged in such natural conversation.

I was only gone about forty-five minutes and was pleased to see that Kate was not resting. She had one of her family photo books in her hand. Mary was seated in a chair across from her. I didn’t go in the room to let Kate know I was home. I am sure Mary heard me come in. I checked email and then had two lengthy conversations with friends.

After the second call, I heard Kate talking enthusiastically about the things she was looking at. Several times she asked when I was coming back because she wanted to ask me some questions. I decided say hello. She was excited to see me, but she was mostly excited about the photo book with its pictures and the accompanying information.

She was particularly interested in my remembering everything so that she could use it in her own album. It always intrigues me that even when I tell her this is her book, and she has all the information, she never understands that it is hers and is available to her anytime. I suspect this occurs because she believes she is in the home of a relative and not her own home.

At any rate, she was unusually animated. She and Mary talked the entire time she was here. I walked Mary to the door when she left, and she told me that she had taken Kate to the bathroom while I was gone and changed her. That was the first time that has happened in the two and a half years Mary has been with us. This was a good indication of how good she felt about Mary. Kate even commented to me about how much she liked her.

Not long after Mary left, we went to pick up our takeout dinner. I had given Kate her bear (Charlotte), and she wanted to take it along with her in the car. On the way home, she mentioned sharing her meal with Charlotte. I wasn’t sure how far she was going with this. I thought Charlotte could get pretty messy. As it turned out, she did get a little food on her but not much. I propped her up on the table beside Kate and got a small plate for her food. Kate put a little food on the plate and also tried to put some in her mouth. She loved attending to Charlotte.

Kate’s mood changed after getting dressed for bed. She didn’t know where we were and was worried about people who were either in the house or who might be coming over. She seemed frightened. I assured her we were the only ones in the house and that no one was coming. She wasn’t convinced and repeatedly asked me where we were and why. This went on for at least thirty minutes before she seemed to relax.

When I joined her later, she greeted me warmly as though she had been that way all day. I was glad to end the day on a high note.

Kate’s New Friend

Quite sometime ago, a Rotary friend whose wife has Alzheimer’s, asked me if Kate enjoyed stuffed animals. He said his wife loves them, and he had given her a collection of them over the course of her disease. I told him Kate had never had a particular interest in them but enjoys children as well as cats and small dogs. I don’t think I mentioned the ceramic cat in our family room. She’s always been fond of him and for years kept him snuggled around the toilet in the bath off our laundry room. I moved him to the family room a couple of years ago. She sees him more often now and almost always stops to greet him in the morning.

More recently, I’ve thought of getting her a stuffed animal, but it was one of those things I never got around to doing. That changed a week ago but not because I finally took action. A colleague at the office brought us dinner last week and along with that a stuffed bear for Kate. He (she?) was an instant hit. Since he entered the picture at a time when her memory is weak, she doesn’t usually ask for him. There has been one exception. I don’t recall the exact circumstances, but she had been holding him a few minutes before and went to our bedroom. She said, “Where is he?” I said, “Who?” She answered, “My little friend.”

Her interests change a lot from day to day and, sometimes, from moment to moment. I wondered how long her fascination would last. Today marks a full week since the bear became a part of the family, and her interest has not diminished. She loves holding him in her arms and often talks to him. There are a variety of situations in which she has been holding him but then does something else that makes that difficult.

One of those times is eating dinner. Each night I take the bear from her and rest him against a pillow on the window seat next to the table. I chose that because Kate has been taken with the pillow she thinks is a person. Since placing the bear, she hasn’t “seen” the person.

Anytime she has been holding the bear, and it is time to get a takeout meal, she wants to take the bear with us. He has even made a couple of trips to the bathroom with her.

We haven’t settled on the bear’s gender but may be coming close. The other day Kate said she thinks it’s a girl, but she slips back and forth between referring to “her” as “he” or “she.” We’ve talked about a name, but that, too, is unsettled. Two days ago, I did a search on girl’s names and read quite a few to her. The only name Kate liked was Charlotte. I like it as well, but I keep thinking it is a better name for a spider. (Sorry about that. I couldn’t resist.)

So far, Charlotte has been a friend to hold while Kate is seated or resting, but I’m also exploring its therapeutic benefit. Yesterday, for example, she was confused when she awoke. I brought Charlotte to her and used her a little bit like a puppet to see if I could relieve any of her anxiety. I discovered there is a spot at the back of the bear’s neck that, when pressed, causes her head to nod. Similarly, squeezing her around her waist causes her arms to move up and down. It didn’t take but a moment for Kate to take Charlotte in her arms. She felt better.

I’m not surprised that the bear has been so well-received. Kate is definitely more childlike now. I suspect we may find that Charlotte provides increasing comfort in the days ahead. Everyone needs a friend.

Going Home

In my last post about Kate’s wanting to go home, I suggested we might be heading for a new routine of taking a ride in the car after every meal. That has become a pattern since then. It happens almost every night when we finish dinner. It has also happened a couple of times after lunch. It has become so routine that she doesn’t ask to go home. She just says, “I’m ready to go now.” She does sometimes say she wants to go home at other times during the day, but I have been distracting her attention to something else. That works most of the time.

Update on Kate’s iPad Usage

For the first time, Kate’s screen time was zero for the week ending Sunday, May 3. This doesn’t necessarily mean she will never use it again, but it looks like we are at the end of a long and beneficial ride.

Alzheimer’s Continually Presents Surprises

As I’ve said many times, change is a big part of our lives now. Sometimes the changes seem to come out of nowhere and, thus, are more surprising than others. Yesterday afternoon, Kate experienced two changes in her mood and behavior that caught me off guard. The first one demanded a lot of my attention. I welcomed the second.

Our day had been a very good one. She was up at 7:30. She was confused, but it was a time when she was ready to do whatever I suggested. I told her I thought it might be good to get up and have breakfast. I had already finished mine but enjoyed having my coffee while she ate.

After breakfast we adjourned to the family room where I thought she would immediately decide to rest, but she didn’t. Instead, she was interested in looking at a photo book. It wasn’t long before she was tired and rested until time for an early lunch.

She rested again as soon as we finished lunch. She didn’t sleep much, and the last hour she tried to read a booklet that her mother’s Sunday school class had given her for her birthday in 1989. It was filled with things the class had heard her say many times during the years she had taught. I asked several times if I could read some of it to her. She finally accepted, and we both enjoyed ourselves.

Then it was time for dinner. I placed an order at a nearby Mediterranean restaurant. On the way, Kate asked for her lipstick. I was surprised. It had been months since she asked about lipstick, and I stopped carrying it. (I suspected that she must have thought we were going to see someone, but she didn’t say anything that would confirm this until much later.) As it turned out, this was the beginning of the first significant change in her mood and behavior. I explained that we could get it when we got home. I never thought she would remember it. This was another time I was wrong. As we were eating, she asked for it.

I went to the bedroom and brought it back to her. I started to open it myself, but she wanted to do it. She extended the lipstick too far, and it broke off. She grabbed it with her hands and put it on her lips. In the process she made quite a mess on her hands and her cloth napkin. I got something to wipe her hands, but it wasn’t easy to remove all of it.

As we continued eating, she asked about the location of her salmon and her cucumber salad on her plate. I hadn’t thought much about it, but she had pushed them around after I served her. I told her it was fine. I added that she could put them wherever she wanted.

It got more serious later. She had finished eating and was now applying her aesthetic tastes to the arrangement of her leftover food. That would have been fine, but she wanted my help. I said something that was a playful response to her request. That was the wrong thing to do. This was a serious matter for her. She had pushed all the remaining food together toward the center of the plate. She was concerned about a couple of blank spaces where there was no food. I picked up a couple of pieces of cucumber and filled in one of the gaps, but she wasn’t satisfied. She started moving grains of rice and pieces of tomato to balance the “food art” she was creating. She picked up several things and put them on her placemat. During this process that took about twenty minutes, she mentioned that “she would like it better over here (referring to portions of the food). She wanted to know what I thought. I said, “It looks good to me.”

Then she extended her art beyond the bounds of her plate. She crumpled a piece of a paper towel and put it on the placemat and pushed it toward the center of the table. She also picked up the two coasters and made them part of the art. Subsequently, she added two catalogs, a coloring book, and crayons. At some point, she said something about wanting it to look right for “them.” In this case, she was talking about people who were coming to the house. Finally, she stopped, but she wanted me to put the plate with the food in safe place. I put it in the refrigerator.

Then we went to the bedroom where I helped her get ready for bed. She has been getting in bed around 7:15 or 7:30 recently. This time she got into her night clothes but wasn’t ready for bed. She wanted to know what she should do. I asked if she would like to look at one of her photo books. She did, and I brought her the “Big Sister” album. I knew she would have problems with it, but I figured she would probably give up and go to bed. Wrong again. This came at a time when I wanted to clean up a few things in the family room and kitchen before taking my shower. She was insistent on my helping her. She seemed to be under pressure for something.

She asked what she should do. I explained that she should go through the book looking at the pictures. I told her she would see a lot of pictures of herself, her brother, and her mother and father. This didn’t help her. I pointed to a picture and told her some of the things I noticed about it and told her that was the kind of thing she could do. I was surprised when she seemed to get the idea. She started her own narrative with a photo. Then she said, “It’s your turn.”

I told her there were a few things I needed to take care of and would also be taking a shower. I said I would come back to her. That’s when she said something about our preparing for someone to arrive and that we were going to put on a show for them with the photo book. She would tell her story with one photo. Then I would tell my story with another and so forth. I helped a little longer before telling her to continue while I took my shower.

I was sure she would become frustrated and give up on the album by the time I returned. That was when I got the second surprise. She had changed completely. She had gone through the entire book and was on the last page or two. This was a surprise because she doesn’t usually spend that much time when she is looking at it by herself. She was her happy normal self. Apparently, she had forgotten about the guests who were coming and no longer had to worry about being prepared for them. Whatever the reason, it was nice to end the day with her in a good mood.

I should add that I had not previously observed anything that would make me think she was “sundowning;” however, her behavior was different enough from other situations that I thought about that. In the future, I will be more attentive to this possibility.

What Comes and Goes But Never Disappears?

The other day, I received the following reply to one of my tweets. “It is interesting how some with Alzheimer’s do not know your name or relationship but know who you are and that you are their special person. I have no doubt that Kate knows you are her special person.”

I, too, have no doubt that I am Kate’s “special person.” That is one of many things that I didn’t anticipate nor understand when we started this journey together. I won’t say that I fully understand now, but I do recognize that “knowing” someone is much more complex than I originally thought.

From the beginning, I knew that Kate would forget me, but I didn’t think about it in any detail. It was just something I envisioned as one of the saddest moments I might encounter.

I remember the day I discovered that my mother didn’t “know” me. She and I were talking while my dad was in another room. She had mentioned not having any family. I said, “What about your husband?” and she said, “I don’t have a husband.” I was stunned. I hadn’t noticed anything in her behavior that would suggest she didn’t know him. I asked about her sons. She said, “I don’t have any sons.” That blow was softened by her answer to my previous question, but it still caught me off guard.

More specifically, I was surprised because she almost always related to me so warmly and repeated something of a mantra. “You’re such a nice boy. You always were.” I didn’t understand how this could be. It made me wonder how long she had not known me as her son. How had I missed that?

I understand a little better now. At least, my experience with Kate has made this seem perfectly normal (that is, for someone with dementia). In addition, my learning about the difference between rational and intuitive thought or abilities has been powerful in facilitating my understanding. Knowing my name and relationship requires rational abilities, and she has lost those. Developing a comfort level and feeling heavily dependent on me requires something different, her intuitive abilities. Those abilities allow her to sense whether she likes me, trusts me, and depends on me. It is those abilities that will last a long time. For some PWD, they last forever.

Like many people, I thought forgetting me would just occur one day and that she would never remember me again. I quickly discovered memory for names, places, etc. comes and goes. At first, the loss of rational memory occurs infrequently but gradually increases. During the past few weeks, Kate has had greater difficulty with her memory of many everyday things like fork, napkin, and Dr. Pepper. In the past few days, she has had times when she couldn’t remember anything about her parents. In addition, her memory of my name and relationship has been even harder for her to recall than in the past; however, she is still comfortable with me though curious about who I am.

Something new has occurred in the past few months. It reminds me of something similar to an alter ego. We had a good example yesterday morning. I noticed on the video cam that Kate was about to get up. When I reached her, she seemed wide awake, quite unlike most mornings. She greeted me enthusiastically and was very talkative. I decided to take advantage of that. Instead of proceeding to get her up, I sat down on the bed beside her and talked with her. We had a beautiful 15-20-minute conversation. I was taken aback, however, when twice she mentioned her husband. Both of them were positive references. Until hearing this, I would have sworn she remembered both my name and our relationship.

As I suggested earlier, this is not the first conversation in which this has happened. I expect it will happen again. Perhaps I will be less surprised next time; however, the point I want to make is that she had two separate memories of me. One was the person with whom she was conversing, someone she recognized and with whom she was very comfortable and liked. The other was her husband who was not present but was also someone with whom she had a similar comfort level. The difference was only the distinction in our “official” relationship. He was her husband, and I was her “friend” (?).

I should add that she has often thinks of me as her father. That first happened a couple of years ago. It almost always begins with her asking, “Are you my daddy?” I usually answer with something like, “Would you like that?” or “I’m happy to be your daddy.” Then she smiles and calls me “Daddy.” After that it seems totally forgotten until the next time.

Until I was part of this conversation and several others like it, I never imagined this happening. It is one of many things that can seem strange or impossible, but with dementia almost anything is possible. It certainly adds another layer of complexity to the concept of “knowing” someone. Knowing me comes and goes: nevertheless, in some ways, it never disappears.

Kate’s Intuitive Abilities Are Still Active

There are many reasons I often say that Kate and I have been fortunate while “Living with Alzheimer’s.” Being able to play to her strengths, her intuitive abilities, accounts for much of that. Although I am familiar with many stories of other people with dementia whose intuitive abilities continue to provide pleasure even to the latest stages of the disease, I’ve always wondered how long Kate’s would last. I still don’t know the answer to that question, but I do know that they remain very active.

Her appreciation for music is as strong as ever, and the breadth of her musical tastes is much greater than before Alzheimer’s. I don’t mean to suggest that she has a critical eye for things. She doesn’t distinguish the quality of the musicians she hears. She just enjoys the music.

She also loves “things of beauty” although she often sees beauty in objects that the rest of us never notice. The one I have mentioned most often is her fascination with the paper doilies that she brings home from one of the restaurants we have visited so frequently in the past. She placed some of them on her dresser, a few on her bed table and several in different places in the family room. She continues to appreciate their beauty even as they get crumpled and soiled.

She also stops to take in other items around the house that intrigue her. This past Saturday, I cleaned out a drawer in my desk in the kitchen. One of the things I pulled out was a large envelope with “First Class Mail” printed in large bold letters on the front and back. This quickly grabbed her attention. She folded the envelope and spent 15-20 minutes running her fingers over the words. When she finished, she returned to the first word and repeated the procedure.

I noticed that she pressed her finger on each word and then lifted it. This is something she also does with the pictures in her photo books. She learned on the iPad that touching an icon would take her to something else. She finds it frustrating when nothing happens after touching photos or, in this case, the words “First Class Mail.”

She asked for my help. I explained that it was designed to mail something to another person. Then I said, “You could write a letter to our daughter, put it in the envelope, and mail it to her. Would you like to do that?” She did and I told her I would write the letter on my computer if she told me what she wanted to say. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t know what to say and wrote a short letter and read it back to her. She liked what I had written. Then I printed the letter and asked her to sign it “Mom.” I gave up having her sign cards, letters, and other documents a year or two ago but thought it would be nice for her to sign this one to Jesse.

I had difficulty explaining where she should sign. After printing the “M,” she needed instructions on both the “o” and “m.” She was unable to put them as close together as she should. In addition, she added several extra “o’s.” She wanted to send a letter to Jesse and wanted to sign it correctly. She just couldn’t do it. It was just the way a small child of three or four might have done. I was touched and hope that Jesse feels the same way when she receives it.

A Sad Moment

Over the past few days, Kate’s memory has seemed even weaker than usual. She often fails to remember her name and the names of her mother, father, and me. When I show her pictures or remind her of things about them, she generally shows a spark of recollection. That is less true recently and especially so today at lunch and afterward.

She has had trouble with her name and mine all day. During lunch, she asked my name, I said, “Richard.” She said, “I can’t call you that.” She struggled with how to explain, and I said, “Because you feel like you are too young to call me by my first name?” She acknowledged that was true. I said, “How about Mr. Richard?” She liked that.

As she often does, she asked the “name of this place.” I told her it didn’t, but it had an address and gave it to her. Then I said, “Some people think of it as Kate and Richard’s house.” She gave me a strange look. It was obvious that she couldn’t understand why it would be called that. I didn’t say anything more.

We were seated at our kitchen table, and a few minutes later, she said, “This is a nice room.” I agreed and told her I thought she would like to see the other rooms. When we finished eating, I took her to the dining room and told her I wanted her to see a few things from her parents’ house. She gave me another strange look and said, “Did I know my parents?” I told her she did. She said, “I don’t remember anything about them.” This was not the first time I had heard her say this. I told her I thought I could help her remember and started giving her the usual tour.

She expressed less interest than usual. She couldn’t get her mind off the fact that she didn’t remember them at all. She asked me where they are. I decided not to say they were gone. Instead, I said, “They’re in Fort Worth.” She said, “Did they like me?” I told her they loved her very much. She said, “If they did, why haven’t they seen me?”

I cut the tour short when she asked if I had any pictures of them. I took her into the family room to look at the “Big Sister” album that her brother had made for her. We didn’t get very far before she said, “I don’t remember any of this.” She was tired and asked if she could rest a while. That’s what she is doing right now. When she wakes up, she won’t remember forgetting her parents. The question is “Will she be fine, or will there be something else that disturbs her? Either one is quite possible.

Another Change Since Sheltering-in-Place

I’ve talked about the negative impact that seems to relate to sheltering-in-place, but some changes are good. Saturday and again this morning, Kate was up early enough for me to fix her breakfast and enjoy being with her while drinking my coffee. I think these were the fourth of fifth times she has had breakfast since our being homebound. Being together for breakfast has never been a part of our marriage. I am an early riser and like to eat soon after I am dressed. Kate sleeps later and hasn’t had a great interest in breakfast, at least not right away.

Although her getting up for breakfast changes my morning routine, I find that it has two benefits. One is that it gives Kate something more nourishing than what she had in the past. Second, it provides us with a pleasant relatively quiet moment to start our day together. In each case, I have played soft music that is relaxing to fit the pace that we both enjoy in the morning. Our conversation matches the pace of the music. That works well for Kate and for me as well.

Is this change caused by our being homebound? I don’t really know. I only know that it corresponds to the time we were asked to shelter-in-place. Prior to that time, we would have gone to Panera for a blueberry muffin. Kate enjoyed the 400-plus-calorie muffin, and we both enjoyed the social contact it provided.

We only leave home for takeout now. That gives us much more time together and has been a bonus. On the other hand, it also leads to Kate’s being bored, so she sleeps or rests much more now. I believe the extra rest she gets plays a direct role in her sometimes waking earlier. It’s not just that she gets more rest. Her rest is intermittent and irregular. She rests a while. Then she sleeps. Then she rests while awake. I am sure that some days she gets more sleep than on other days. I believe she wakes early the mornings after days she has had more sleep the day before.

Whatever the reason, I have enjoyed the change, and it encourages me about the future. For a long time, I felt that we would ultimately transition to a day when we spend more time at home. Covid-19 may be introducing that transition earlier than I had anticipated. It reminds me that change can bring about both positive and negative consequences. This is one I welcome.