“Well, what did the lady die of?” Our mother has been dead for less than half an hour and is lying on the bed a few meters away from us. The doctor is talking to someone from the nursing home. “Old age,” I interrupt. She was 93. “Yes, and familiar with dementia,” says the doctor. He lists a few more things my mother was “familiar with.” My sisters and I look at each other. I can see in their eyes that we think the same: if you don’t understand that you can have this conversation somewhere else, you’re not familiar with empathy.
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A version of this article also appeared in the newspaper on June 29, 2023.