A friend once told me the following story: “My grandmother was ninety years old and suffered from dementia. She had trouble remembering things and lived with her children and grandchildren. One cold night, I heard something stirring in the living room. I got up to investigate, and found my grandmother sitting in front of the dressing table, putting on makeup by the moonlight. She was holding up my face powder and painting it on her skin so thickly that she looked pale. Then she started to apply bright red powder to her cheeks for blush. I came forward: ‘Grandma, why are you putting on such heavy makeup in the middle of the night?’ Without turning her head, she wordlessly smiled at me through the mirror. At this point my parents got up too, so now it was the three of us, scolding my grandmother and insisting she go back to sleep. We all helped her back to bed and lay her down. My Grandmother never woke up again, and left us peacefully that night with her beautifully made up face on.”