Some days even good company and fun at the mall can’t chase away the darkness.

The Curmudgeon worried me last night. He’d taken his bed time medications and remained downstairs for a half hour afterwards.

I don’t like when he does that. He gets a bit incoherent and slurs his speech. Of course, that’s when he wants to carry on a conversation and gets frustrated with me for not understanding him.

I repeatedly tell him to go to bed.

Once he goes up, well..that’s when the tears start. I mourn him every day and each day it gets harder to watch him fall apart a little more.