Visiting my mom through glass was supposed to be temporary. Now it feels endless

It was a warm day this summer when Mom and I sat on the veranda of the nursing home for a rare in-person visit. We were both masked-up and a good six or more feet apart. The young aide was momentarily distracted by another resident there. That's when Mom stood up, walked over and took my hand in hers. Dementia be damned, COVID-19 be damned. She was my mother and she was going to hold my hand, damnit. I held her hand back only for a second, then I said something like, "We're not supposed to touch mom, remember the virus I told you about?" The aide sprang into action and gently guided Mom away. ...