My mother arrived home at 8:30 Wednesday night.
This morning, I attempted a self-lobotomy.
Need I say more?

Actually, in all fairness, Mum has arrived home at the very best time. After the agent rejected my book, I contacted Melva, the editor who helped me with my manuscript in the fall of 2011. I wanted her to look at my query letter and book proposal. We spoke last night.
Awe-some. She suggested a re-focus, making my query and proposal about the good things that came out of my caregiving time, not merely a story about how awful Alzheimer is ("This is not another horror story about Alzheimer disease"). She listed three points my query/proposal should highlight:
1) how I discovered things about both of my parents that I would not otherwise have  learned
2) that my book, with its focus on the spirituality of Alz. and my honesty about the mistakes I made, will help to de-stigmatize the disease, help calm the "dread" and fear with which people react to the word,
and 3) how current and pertinent my book is, especially given the home vs. facility challenge that we faced, an issue that is going to become increasingly significant as our population ages, as the diagnoses of AD increase, and the number of nursing home beds and nursing facilities remain the same, or worse, decrease.
Basically, make it positive, not dreadful; make it hopeful, not full of fear and pain.
Mum's benefit in all this is to be my sounding board. I lie on her bed while she sits in her chair and I run all these ideas by her. By talking it out, I figure it out.
"I hope you're writing all this down," is the running joke. Because neither of us do.
Dwayne is a good listener but he can't do the back-and-forth discussions; Mum knows the story and she's well-read so when it comes to reworking the query letter and proposal, she becomes an integral part of that.
Melva also told me to never give up. "The market goes in cycles," she said. "It make take four or five or ten years, but your book will sell."
The best thing she told me? The mother of a friend of hers was diagnosed with AD and she was in denial, scared of the dreaded word "Alzheimer" and what happens to someone with it. Melva told her about me and my belief that the person still exists no matter how the disease affects them. Because she had read my book, she was able to share my story and help someone.
That is exactly the kind of book I wanted to write.