Frandato
There is a rhythm to loving a person with dementia. One has to learn to be present again and again in the same moment, to relive it as if it is always new. One has to stop arguing—to stop finding fault with the details of the story, and to listen deeply to its rhythm, its shape. In the midst of trying to figure out how to make a long-term difference for the residents and volunteers running the gerokomeio in Ikaria—in the midst of the anguish of feeling as if there was too little we could do—we learned also to be present. We learned to listen even when we didn’t understand the words, to pay attention to the shape a resident’s eyebrow made, to the way she leaned in or leaned back, the tone of her voice. When I was with the residents and students, I did my best to translate, though my Greek is far from fluent—but I couldn’t be everywhere at once. After awhile, though, the students began to recognize which story they were hearing, which narrative they were entering, by the wa...