* Posted in 2009 In my mother's last few years of life, when her Alzheimer's progressed rapidly, I vividly remember driving her around and her pointing to a spot on the inside of my car door. She kept saying something about the face in the door and as soon as I could see what she was talking about, I saw it too. At that moment, I realized that she was seeing faces in the pattern of the leather in the door. And it continued with any sort of design she saw, she would see a face in it. She never mentioned this until she was practically incommunicable, until she really began to forget who I was. What I never mentioned to anybody, mainly because I just did not think of it as a big deal, was that ever since I was little, I always saw faces in patterns, designs, clouds, in the abstract. Sometimes the faces were realistic, some were cartoon-y, but it was always faces. And now, when my mother was far into the depths of her disease, she was seeing ...
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