My mother thought we were at war. Not as a metaphor but in the truest sense of the word. She was captured and was being guarded by ‘the enemy’. How I had reached her through enemy lines without as much as a scratch was a total mystery to her.

Cyrille Offermans writes about his mothers adventures in dementia. Up close and with such precision that it suggests deep love. How it started, with forgetfulness and distrust, how hard it was to react to this, that it was inevitable to have her hospitalized and how her inner world disintegrated. The essayist Offermans, who helped taking care for his mother for years , tries to interpret her seemingly meaningless thoughts and words with meaning and humanity.

‘Offermans’ little book is a small gem, both personal and transcending the universal’ 
– NRC Handelsblad

‘This is not the feelgood-essay for those affected but it’s a critical view on the mysterious process in which all insights and connections are erased.’ – Vrij Nederland

'Offermans writes with modesty and with a lovingly precision how his mother loses her decorum at the nursing home’ – Nederlands Dagblad