She looked at me with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. “I’m just tired, dear. It’s nothing.”

“I understand,” I replied gently. “But I think it might be more than that. Have you seen a doctor recently?”

Her eyes flickered with resistance. “I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.”

I pressed on, hoping to break through her reluctance. “Mom, I think it’s important. For your sake and for my son’s. I’m worried about both of you.”

The conversation was difficult, filled with her denials and my persistent concerns. But eventually, I convinced her to see a doctor. The diagnosis confirmed my fears: early-onset dementia. It was a heavy blow to both of us, a reality that neither of us was prepared for.