It is 1:00 am. He is awake because of the Adderoll in his system, they have changed his prescription and until he gets used to it, he is restless. He clips pages from the newspaper; news items of relevance that he wants to inform somebody about. Later he will sneak away to the house telephone and make calls to listen to pornography. The clippings lie in neat piles all over the floor of his room. They remain there because he has no one to inform.

Pity him. Nobody loves him. Not his son, daughter, or ex-wife. Not the social worker who arranges his appointments, not his fiduciary, not the owner manager of the house where he stays, not his caregivers. Mother Theresa might love him, if she knew about him, but she doesn't.

He can't help himself. He has used the same strategies for getting things done his whole life but now they only drive people away. He has dementia, but not so severe that he is unaware of what he is doing. He has some memory and decision problems but those function as excuses when he wants to be charming.

He can be charming, at least until he decides you haven't done things right, and then....

He is abusive. He uses words as weapons, finding weaknesses, seeking pain, making those who serve him - in his opinion, everyone - grovel and squirm. If he cannot find something among the myriad piles, it is never his fault, it is always the fault of a caregiver, the social worker or fiduciary.

This is why he never sees his granddaughter or daughter in law, and only rarely his daughter.

Being abusive worked for him most of his life as he was building companies and making money. But the money now pays only for the house, the social worker, the caregivers. The caregivers tire of the abuse, eventually move on and are replaced, as are the social worker and fiduciary.

He was a titan of industry; now he clips news items for nobody.