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  Indeed, even now, she has reverted back to her perception of believing that she is being visited every night by unseen and unknown nocternal visitors.  That this or these visitors think nothing of ruffling through her belongings, even in her presence.  And my dear mother is markedly unreassured by me saying to her.  But mother, you have often said to me that you do not sleep well at nights, so, would you not become aware of these visitors coming into you room and searching through your belongings?  And even as I write this, I am reminded of the movie, Jason and the Argonauts, whereby during their journey, he and his intrepid fellow adventurers are, at one point, tormented by hungry winged demons who came out at nights to feed.   A phenomenon which, it seems to me, is a fitting comparison to make with the poignant pain which my dear mother is manifesting in continuing to hold on to this particular belief.  Unfortunately, whereas Jason and his men could set a trap for and caught their