On one of my visits, about a month before my mom had to be moved to foster care, my dad had made a beef stew for dinner. This was right about the time when mealtimes were becoming kind of hit or miss for her. Utensils were starting to become strangers to her and you didn't know if she would like something or just want to go back into the living room to be left alone.

Well, for what ever reason, she was really enjoying the beef stew and was just gobbling it up. My dad was so happy. Her bowl was almost empty so he grabbed it, got some more stew in it, and placed the bowl back down in front of her without her noticing and she continued to eat the stew. He and I just kind of winked at each other and smiled.