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Fading from view

I was probably most use to my mother in the years when she no longer knew who I was.

By Andy Davis   May 2015

It is a strange feeling to read your parent’s bank statements. Few things in our mother’s final years return to me as strongly as the sense that in doing this we had all crossed a line. No part of her independence would now be protected from the gaze of others, and where once these monthly ledgers had recorded her peculiar,…

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