When Jessica began caring for her father, George, she expected the hardest part would be managing his memory loss.It wasn’t.It was dinner. She’d make his favorites — tomato soup, grilled cheese, scrambled eggs with dill — only to find them untouched. “Not hungry,” he’d mumble, setting the fork aside.Sometimes he forgot he hadn’t eaten; other times he’d frown at the plate and say, “This doesn’t taste right.” Jessica tried everything — new recipes, smaller portions, soft jazz

When Mark lost his wife of fifty-three years, the world went quiet. He stopped going to his woodworking club. His daily phone calls with friends trailed off. Family dinners became shorter. His daughter, Lily, noticed the silence first — not just in the house, but in his voice. “He’s there,” she told a friend, “but he’s not really with  us anymore.” When early signs of cognitive decline followed, the loneliness deepened. Conversations confused him; visits exhausted him. He beg