Today at a nursing home:
The lady who only had one leg said, I used to be a nurse. That man was a writer and a Pulitzer Prize winner.
He was a Pulitzer Prize winner? I turned to ask him a little more about that great honor. Tell me about that, Albert.
That’s what they tell me. Where are you from? You are doing a good job here. Maybe you will be here again. When are you returning to do another program?
I am not sure about his awards of the past. He seemed to ask me the same questions over and over. But, geez, pretty neat, to have met a man that won a Pulitzer prize. And how sad, that he does not remember it. Dementia is “robber” of a great mind.