My mother shuffled into the room, leaning on the arm of a young woman whose name I didn’t know; her name tag was facing the wrong way, thanks to hustle and bustle of the morning, no doubt. I like to thank the staff by name when they bring my mother, who has dementia, down for a visit, and I know quite a few of them by now. But there are so many I haven’t gotten to know because they are new or haven’t been assigned to her on the days I visit.