At six this morning, I heard it: the whirr of my mother’s chair lift coming up from the basement. She was fully dressed, and had her bags packed, which means she must have been up since at least three. “It’s time to go to the train. Judge says I have to go to Vermont.” That damned Judge — the one in her head, who keeps giving her these untimely messages — is getting on my last nerve. Now, some experts will tell you that when someone with Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia has hallucinations like these, it’s better to go with them to their […]