My son came home this past weekend for my birthday. It was a quick trip -- but it was nice to have him home just the same. We went out to play golf on Sunday morning and had someone snap this photo of us at the golf course. Although Alan is not a Georgia Bulldog, he did agree to have his photo taken under the Bulldog sign.

I guess I don't realize how much I miss my son, until I see him. I guess that is the way with most parents.

I know I haven't written in awhile. I have been reading some other Alzheimer's blogs lately and when I read them, I feel so inadequate in writing this blog as they all seem to have some profound things to say. I many times, have profound thoughts (or at least I think they are) but then I can't translate them onto the page. That's frustrating.

I turned the big 55 this past weekend. When I turned 30 or 40 or even 50 it didn't bother me. Turning 35 bothered me and this one has. But, if you had asked me eight years ago when I was diagnosed with younger on-set Alzheimer's if I would be bothered by my 55th birthday, I probably would have said "I'll be lucky to be alive by then". So, I guess I shouldn't let it bother me --I'm still here!