Dear Inner Circle,

Standing on the footpath and talking to some of our visitors, a well-dressed man walked up with a warm smile and said, “Do you remember me?” I replied, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before in my life.” He gave me a friendly punch on my upper arm and said, “You’re a character!” Apparently I’m a character, with dementia.

It was dark when I left last night and there were a lot of people around. Our Twilight Team had their hands full. It took me a while, as it always does, to be out of the front door and walking up the road. A young, fit looking man who has been around Wayside for a couple of months came up to me. He’s a friendly, likeable bloke, and although we have greeted each other several times, I know nothing of his back story. In passing I said, “Are you sleeping rough tonight?” “Yeah,” he said and a wave of despair came over him. He put his arms around me. In my arms his voice broke and he said so that only I could hear, “I’m so sick of waking up.”

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