The Last of His Mind is not a laugh a minute. But if it’s not a fun read, perhaps it’s an important one. The subtitle, “A Year in the Shadow of Alzheimer’s,” acknowledges the subject matter as that terror hiding in our closets. We, or someone close to us, will outlive our mind. The value of this book is in its engagement with the demon, bringing it to recognizable size and letting us know how one man met his father’s diminishing abilities.
It was mid-afternoon, and before going through a backlog of e-mails I decided to go to my real mail box and check my real mail. This is usually a somber experience. What fun is it to look through bills, advertisements and junk? This time, though, something got my attention. A blue envelope was in the stack of mail, and my address was handwritten on it.
My head’s killing me this morning. I have a headache because I’m thinking too much about same-sex marriages and all the judgmental crap that goes with it. I have Gary and William, my gay friends — indirectly — to thank for the Tylenol I’m taking. I met them in the fall of 1994.