A Decisive Moment with Dad My father is a kind and polite person with an impressive career and a decorated sports background. However, he had to endure a form of early-onset dementia for over a decade. His primary caregiver is my mother, who we believe has been able to slow my father's deterioration by keeping him mentally stimulated with a set activity every day of the week. Of course, this strategy also takes care of my mother, as it gives her peace of mind that my father has a reason to get up every day. Just as importantly, it buys her valuable personal time to do something for herself. But every time the deterioration reveals another unexpected problem to deal with, my mother's resolve is threatened and in need. I would like to build him a woodshed that will help him with his ongoing sense of responsibility to cut and store firewood. In the “true blue” style of father and son, our joint work would create a bond that would open up a moment of reflection that I could treasure forever. Well, we worked together from time to time, but Dad's attention and physical ability faltered, and within a few minutes I would find him returning to his cot or sitting inside staring into space. Maybe there were moments when I felt a subtle connection, but I soon realized that my expectations were unrealistic. Meanwhile I was cooking, cleaning and answering hundreds of questions like 'where does this go', 'will I take out the rubbish' and 'when did you say you were leaving?' ' Every day I saw all the television news channels watched one after another. I realized that without anyone reminding me, the same pair of underwear can be worn an infinite number of times, that the best clothes can be worn to mow the lawn, and that stained clothes can be worn to dinner. I witnessed the return of my washed shirt, covered in white stains, and realized that no distinction was made between the detergent box and the detergent bottle.